The Sound of Silence
by babygumm07
Summary: Twenty years ago, Meningitis surged through Oz, tearing many families apart. Twenty years on, two very disparate people will be brought together by the disease which crippled one of them. Booksical marked as bookverse for darker elements . Fiyeraba.
1. The Tragedies

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim. _

_Something a little different, eh? I'm five chapters ahead with this one, and I don't want to keep it back any longer. Be warned, this will be quite angsty and not a completely happy-go-lucky fanfiction. I can't stand reading fics where nothing remotely real ever happens, but you should know that I'm adopting a Jane Austen approach to my fics. It's a lovely philosophy for fanfic writers, I think. _

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><p>"Mama, can I <em>please<em> go out to play now?" The little frog begged, her pigeon-toed feet tensing and relaxing in anticipation. She so desperately wished for her freedom for the day, and she had worked hard at being some kind of a young lady for the best portion of the morning.

"Little Elphaba, of course you may." Her mother allowed, cupping her beautifully pointed chin in her hand and smiling sweetly as she only did to her precious burdened daughter. In a bright and dirty flash of green the child whirled around and battered through the back door like a rolling clap of thunder.

A deep voice spoke then, with a hint of irritation about it. "Melena, you are rewarding her good behaviour by giving her permission to misbehave?"

"Frexspar, she is hardly misbehaving. Your Fabala is an uncontrollable spirit and she will do what she will. Like myself, I might add, and since you dote on me I do not understand your being stand-offish with her."

"She is green." He said, as though it were an explanation.

"And you think she chose to be that way? Did she select the colour whilst she grew? Did she favour it above pink or white or ochre? I think not, and neither did we. It is simply her skin, and nothing more and that is the end of it." Tired of the topic, she fluttered from his sight into her bedroom and sang to the new baby that she nursed in her body, with the secret and perhaps vindictive wish that it, too, would be coloured as sinfully as her little Elphaba.

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><p>"Eat the little flowers, my love. It'll help us." Her husband soothed the lumpy mixture with a wooden spoon and held it out to her in a delicate little china glass that Melena herself had painted while pregnant with her daughter.<p>

"In what way? Do you think I am so simple-minded that I won't question you and your _methods_? I am not a feeble-minded woman, no matter what your ministry tells its fickle flock about my sex." She was in an irritable mood today and had no mind to merely tease him or placate him by consuming the flowers. She did not take them daily and had no reason to assume they were effective – for better or for worse. Frexspar counted on them as a last resort against whatever it was that had caused his daughter's verdant hue.

Melena had a keener inkling which lay in a strange green bottle marked 'Green Elixir' that she kept hidden in a box of precious things. One day it and its contents would belong to Elphaba. It was not merely its bright emerald colour which made Melena want to make a gift of it to her eldest, but within her there lay a stronger inkling which she had buried for the sake of preserving her family life. Let her little Elphaba cherish it as a keepsake because it was pretty, and nothing more.

Frex held the cup only for a moment before giving up for the day. In his heart he knew they might work for nothing. He might be backing a horse that was good for glue and nothing else. He had to try something. It was an entirely unselfish move; he could not imagine how much unhappiness the little frog might suffer under her affliction and there was no reason to pretend it was anything other than the horrendous disease he assumed it was.

What possible good could come of it? As he poured the liquid away for another day, he heard Melena sing another melody to baby Elphaba. He dare not make a sound as she would always stop when she knew he was in earshot. She never sang for him, though he loved it so.

And the cup stood on the counter, empty and impotent.

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><p>Little Elphaba did not understand why she was not allowed to see her mother now. The baby, her sister, had been born some time ago now and Mama had said they would share a night's sleep together as they always did.<p>

But the days and nights went quietly by and still she did not sleep next to her beautiful Mama. She could smell her perfume and her hair and hear her singing tuneful, soulful melodies. Elphaba had always been made to sing back to her when she went out to wander, so her Mother would always know she could hear and be heard and that she was safe and sound. Now when the little frog hummed a line, nobody responded.

She was not even let in to the nursery to peek at the silent little baby. Elphaba thought her sister would be shy, as she barely made any noise and she imagined she had enough confidence for both of them. It did not signify; Elphaba would always be a good sister to her. As the days rolled by, she had a strange and sad feeling that little baby would never hear their Mama's voice.

The Queen stood frozen to her place. A small circle was the only space she occupied in the cavernous chamber while her husband, the King, paced silently back and forth before her. They awaited the arrival of the physician. He held their lives in his hands, and more importantly, the life of their only son.

A click and a creak frightened them. A door opened in the left hand corner of the room, just below a golden silk tapestry that depicted a harmonious Vinkun tribe in a violent and successful hunt in the mountains. They each took a deep and shaking breath as they watched the gruff man stride over to them.

"The fever has not – the fever will not take your son."

The Queen sobbed quietly, her tears released as her husband embraced her and tried to school his own expression.

"He will grow as he should, and has been consuming healthy amounts of food for his age. We will monitor his growth, of course." The relieved couple nodded and thanked him tensely. "However, such a fierce disease I fear, has taken its toll." The doctor cleared his throat. "He is not responding to sound or noise of any kind. His focal health appears perfectly normal, and yet I should expect him to have no use of hearing during his lifetime."

"What?" The King asked, highly distressed and clutching his wife's hands for dear life.

"Your son has been made permanently deaf by his illness. I am so sorry."

The Queen cried hysterically into her husband's royal livery. The whole situation seemed entirely impossible.

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><p>"Oh thank Oz for that." Elphaba exclaimed, shoving bustling passengers out of her way as she fought to keep her balance and her place on the platform. This University had better be worth all the hustle and bustle that seemed to permeate around it. So far the place was entirely contradicting the scenes of tranquil contemplation and reflection its brochures and guides had so proudly boasted. It was like a marketplace, just like every other marketplace, only the wares were not chickens and milk and cloth and wood, but ideas, papers, debates and knowledge.<p>

Huffing, Elphaba ploughed through the stationhouse and onto the marginally less busy streets of Shiz University. Whatever its noise or clamour, she loved it deeply. Anything would be better than the soul-sucking mudflats and marshes of Munchkinland and everything was more glamorous and beautiful. She wondered how long it would be before she cynically loathed the government buildings for their hypocrisy and worshipped the coffee houses as seats of rebellion.

Her excitement had let her escape the inevitable looks of horror, shock and confusion that fell upon her as the people of Shiz clocked her skin and tried to find an appropriate reaction. Elphaba had seen it so many times that she merely carried on purposefully down the road to her lodgings at Crage Hall, telling herself that she need not be so concerned with their views as she would likely never see them again.

As the buildings that she knew so well from the pamphlets and newspapers came into her view, she relaxed her posture and lessened her speed a little, knowing she would have four years – what a lifetime that was to her – to drink it all in and become intoxicated by its grandeur. They were high and magnificent stone structures. So important, so wonderful and sobering that they reminded her what was expected of her academic career. It was almost as though the tall spires that pierced the clouds set the benchmark, the standard which they were all to achieve or surpass if they could.

Elphaba could not wait to try her green-skinned hand.

She charged into the registry, joining the queue formed by students waiting to collect their room keys and have their luggage carried to their respective lodgings. Of course, those behind her watched incredulously as she stood, like so many others, and patiently waited her turn. Happily those in front of her were not yet mortally wounded by the offensive sight of her.

They did gasp and mutter, however, so this reprieve did not last long. Pony-tailed heads and curls and plaits suddenly turned from view to be replaced by horror-stricken expressions. Elphaba smiled at them all. At least one good thing could come from it; her presence there seemed to provide a perfect excuse for them all to become immediate and very good friends. She was their outcast, as usual. She chuckled sarcastically at the typical result of her arrival.

A silent but very painful stab accompanied it. A pain she was accustomed to, but which was no less hurtful. None of these contorted faces belonged to anyone who would befriend her, but she did not make this thought evident to her new enemies.

"What do you want?" The poor woman at the desk to which she was called looked absolutely petrified. She glanced at Elphaba once, maybe twice, before deciding that she could hardly stand the sight of her and steadfastly avoiding any eye contact.

"Well, good morning to you. That is a very rude way to greet me, I think. Have I ever done anything to you? I think not. I merely walked in here and waited in that queue you see and you seem to have decided I am some sort of evil sorceress." The woman was quite young. Perhaps not young, but middle-aged and definitely not as decrepit as some of the women she had seen shuffling and creaking about so far. With a sigh that nothing she said would make any important difference, Elphaba continued. "My name is Elphaba Thropp. I am the Governor's daughter, from Munchkinland."

"She's from Munchkinland? What a funny looking Munchkin!" One stupid, high-pitched voice cried. Elphaba clenched her teeth and span in its direction. The culprit, a bleach-blonde girl with a fine suede pink beret and perfectly formed rose-tinted lips that were curled into a self-satisfied smile froze as Elphaba saw her.

"Here are your keys. Girl! Excuse me, girl, here are your keys!" The clerk cried out desperately, rudely interrupting her retort to the little pink puff and calling her by her gender, for some reason which the green girl did not wish to know.

"_Elphaba Thropp." _She pronounced carefully, leaning closer and sneering at the pathetic old woman. "You may call me Miss Thropp, thank you."

Elphaba stalked along the halls of Crage. Well, she hardly stalked, but the shrieks of passing students and staff meant it certainly felt as though she crept not unlike the amphibious creatures that scuttle on the murky floors of marshes and murky mythical lakes.

Ignoring them all, she reached her door which she remarked shone brilliantly. The wood was dark damask and carved with only the most beautiful symbols of nature and fertility, meant to inspire academic confidence.

She opened the door to a well-sized room that waited being furnished by its residents. There were two beds on either side of the door, two bathrooms again on the right and left and two windows with large panels and window seats. They were separated by a fireplace filled with dry wood and with extra lying to the side.

There were two desks and two chairs to match them. Elphaba wondered whether her roommate would make the same use of her writing desk as she.

Elphaba let a pretty tune escape her lips as she quite happily set about settling in her solitude. She enjoyed being alone; it was a wonderful time for her own thoughts and if she were forced to be alone in public it was always with the knowledge that people were watching her. At least when in her room she was genuinely free to do and say whatever she wished.

She could take off all her clothes and parade about with naked pride and would that not have shaken them to their very cores had she done it outside? Elphaba laughed at the thought as she hung up a limp blue shift in the cold cupboard next to her bathroom. She thought about what else she had to do and there was almost nothing for they began classes the very next day.

Elphaba fingered her schedule and memorised it a little before she tucked it away in a drawer and decided to run a bath.

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><p><em>Let me know what you think. More to come soon.<em>


	2. The Library

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim. _

_Happily, very happily, I have now finished 2nd year of uni and am floating in that strange limbo period after lectures and before exams. Fortunately that means I have more free time, more incentive to write stories and so more fanfic updates. Yay! Well, I hope it's good for you all, too. I really loved hearing from some of you, please keep up the reviews, I love to hear what you think._

_Enjoy this next one! _

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><p>There was an irritating commotion when Elphaba met her roommate. The blonde girl – another one of whom there were obviously thousands at this school – was beside herself with rage when she laid eyes on her new friend. She was spitting tacks and Elphaba took quite a bit of pleasure driving her up the wall with fury.<p>

"You seem to mistake the situation Miss Galinda." Elphaba had said dryly to the girl as she steadfastly refused to allow any staff to unpack a single belonging of hers. No mean feat as there were at least seven large suitcases with the emblem of some designer or other printed or sewn into the fabric. Or perhaps they were Galinda Upland's initials. "I am no more thrilled about this arrangement than you. The only difference is that I have accepted it and you, my dear, have not."

"Who in Oz – do _not _call me _dear _you . . . you-"

"Save your breath, Miss. I assure you no pathetic pithy insult from you would be anything I have not heard before. Do your worst, but it will change nothing." Elphaba finished and spoke no more to her, despite the many cat calls and expletives that were shot at her. It made her laugh heartily to think she must have brought out a side of Miss Upland that no one had ever seen before.

She battered about the room for some time before finally disappearing with a few words about speaking to their Headshiztress, Madame something or other. Elphaba was past caring. She simply sank back into her covers and penned out a list of books she wanted.

When Galinda Upland returned, there was of course no change to their accommodation. Elphaba thought, or rather hoped, that the precious little thing had been threatened with having to room in a tomb of a dormitory if she so disliked sharing with another girl. A perfectly normal girl.

Galinda Upland was a very beautiful girl and obviously imagined she was the perfect embodiment of the modern academic female: empowered but without any actual intelligence. She often posed as she sat or stood and she did indeed look every bit a model. As vain and self-obsessed as the rest of them.

She was far too loud for comfort and Elphaba wondered how anyone stood the company of her without suffering a serious migraine. Just ignoring her took a large portion of energy: perhaps complaining to Madame whats-her-face would be in their best interests. No – the idea of sleeping with eighteen other girls probably more desperate for attention than Miss Upland was even more repulsive. No, she would simply have to put up with her. Although Elphaba envisaged the library and cafes and public houses would become dear friends to her.

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><p>After the first day of classes Elphaba found the present was as good a time as any to begin her friendship with the dusty library bookshelves. She was of course not the only student who nursed this idea but as it was the beginning of term she assumed there would be very few other people.<p>

She was wrong.

The whole building was bustling. Apparently the marketplace permeated every facet of this town, including the University buildings. Students were running in and out of the different collections and queuing until they were blue in the face. The high ceilings and ancient buttresses which supported them lost all of their poetic and artistic power thanks to the teaming floods of people. Though Elphaba always lamented an empty library she also detested a full one.

She stepped forward, this way and that. First she decided to collect a map and find the books on her list as she had planned. Then she thought it would take her most of the night and that she had no particular need for them all this evening, so she made for the least populated areas. However, even those were impossible to get through and she did not need another reminder that she could clear a room all by herself.

With a sigh she pivoted on her heel and exited the library accompanied by a few shrieks and gasps from passers-by. Elphaba resolved on searching for the public library as a last resort. After not too much trouble she settled her eyes on it: a large, overpowering white stone construction which had she not so desperately sought its company, would have been intimidating and ugly. It seemed to love itself too much. No matter, she would not have to look at it once she was inside.

Her flat feet made only the small sound of leather soles against marble as she entered. Thankfully, it was sparse and empty and she breathed in the heady scent of parchment and of hot wax with a contented smile.

"I'd like a library card, please." She asked at the reception to an old woman who raised her eyebrows and peered over the rim of her spectacles at her, but did no more. She even laughed a little when Elphaba copied and exaggerated her expression by squinting past her own lenses. She gave her name and address and thanked the lady, who watched her curiously as she disappeared off into to haunt the bookshelves.

Elphaba very easily found the things she wanted, but the allure of the butter-soft leather wing chairs which were just like her father's at home was too much. She had nothing better to do. The young and very green woman selected a few choice pieces from nearby collections and sank into a loveseat, kicking off a glove that had been carelessly abandoned by some previous occupant of her favourite spot. It was almost homely, the picture she must have made, were it not marred by the fact of her skin.

Half an hour in to her meditative reading time she was rudely disturbed by a vicious prodding on her shoulder.

"Ow, what?" She exclaimed, angrily. There was no need for physical contact at all. An 'Excuse me' would have worked perfectly well. "What is it?" She asked, jumping up and staring her enemy in the face. Actually, he was a faintly familiar face and a handsome one, too.

He pointed at the table where the books lay.

"What? What is it? What do you want?"

He only pointed again, more fiercely this time. He looked a little frustrated, if she was honest. She turned to where he gestured but could not fathom what he was about.

"You know, this would be much easier if you just told me what the problem is. I'm not so abnormal as to be unable to understand you." She quipped.

He sighed and gestured again, but this time to his ears. _I can't hear you, _he said. _I'm deaf, _he said.

"Oh." She smiled and began to answer him but he turned away from her and began to walk out. She stopped herself from calling after him and dashed to stop him, grabbing his hand and preparing her apology. "I'm sorry." She signed. "I didn't know and let's be honest you cannot really expect everyone to know how to speak to you. I am sorry if I made you comfortable, but really I'm used to it." She joked, shrugging.

His mouth was wide open in a very unattractive way, and it was clear that he was in some sort of incredulous state of disbelief. Elphaba could not keep eye contact with him; he seemed to be looking her all over.

_You can speak sign language?_

"Uh . . . yes. Obviously." She replied, rolling her eyes.

He laughed. He really was very handsome. _I wasn't expecting that. Although considering where I am and who I'm talking to, I guess I should prepare myself for anything eh?_

"What does that mean?" She said, instantly offended.

_You're Elphaba Thropp,_ he replied matter-of-factly. She nodded, unsure of whether or not she wished to confirm what he thought. _Everyone knows about you. _

"Oh really? Well I don't appreciate being gossiped about and I particularly don't appreciate that self-satisfied smile you're currently sporting. So if you will excuse me I'll get back to my reading. Sir."

_Wait. I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean it like that. It's just – please don't leave. You're the only person here that can speak with me like this. _She sat up and considered him for a moment. He looked very determined. _You know, you can't expect people not to be surprised or talk about you just as much as I can't expect them to talk _to _me._

"I know." She said simply. "What's your name?"

He smirked. _Fiyero Tiggular. _

A penny somewhere in her mind dropped: of course he was. "Prince Fiyero Tiggular." He nodded once and she extended her hand for him to shake. She caught her breath a bit when instead, he lifted it carefully to his lips and kissed her fingers.

_May I? _She gave him leave to sit next to her. _Pleased to meet you. _

She laughed. "Alright. Don't be so damn formal. We're not in a royal court here, your highness."

_Actually you'd call me Your Majesty, but I'll let you off. _She giggled and checked herself before remembering that he would not have heard it. She licked her lips self-consciously; he kept looking at her. She had never really been quite so aware of it before. _You go to Shiz, then, Miss Elphaba?_

She snorted at the formality but did not quite feel like telling him to drop it. He should use her title, as it was only proper, and she would never live it down once the student body began to poke fun at the green girl apparently trying to catch a prince. Not that she ever thought she could.

"Yes I do. Life Sciences, before you ask. And sorcery."

_Sorcery? Goodness, you're quite a woman Miss Elphaba._

"Alright." She said, surprised. "Bit of a weird reaction but okay."

_Why is it a weird reaction?_

"What is so special about Sorcery?"

_Not an awful lot of people have the abilities, do they? And even those who do never usually advance to such a level that it can be taught to them at University. You obviously have quite a considerable skill. I'm impressed by it. _Elphaba frowned, which made him chuckle. He had a sweet laugh which frustrated her. _You needn't get so defensive, _he said, leaning a little towards her.

She sat up a bit more. "Thank you. I didn't know anyone knew very much about Sorcery."

_I'm not just anyone though am I? _She raised an eyebrow. _You know me a little now._

She scoffed good-naturedly. "I hardly know you at all. You're Fiyero. I can presume you go to Shiz, too. I know you're a Prince of the Vinkus. I know your family's social and political history, but that is as far as it goes."

_You know I'm impressed by you. Does that not count for something?_

"I don't really know." She said, whilst trying not to say it. She felt a little exposed to him: it was probably because she was signing and she had only just met him. No one knew about her in that way. No one here knew anything of her or her family and she liked it that way. Elphaba was a supremely private individual, though it was an enforced state of existence. If she thought she could trust someone then they would have her loyalty.

_May I ask you something?_

"You may, but I may not answer."

He nodded; he had pre-empted that response. _How do you know how to sign?_

She turned to him, her eyes thin slits; accusatory and closed off. "Why are _you_ deaf?"

_That's . . . personal._

"Indeed it is." She said, without signing. She snapped her books shut and left with only the ones she needed. He did not follow her out.

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><p><em>Ouch, she's a prickly one. Who'd have thunk it?<em>


	3. The Roommate

_**Author's Note: **I disclaim._

_Just because it's Easter, and you guys are so lovely, and I've been punching out this story, here's the next chapter earlier than usual . . . read, enjoy and review!_

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><p>The next few weeks brought horrendous rain to Shiz that flooded the streets and battered the old buildings so badly that most lecturers had to shout fiercely just to be heard. Elphaba wrapped herself up and tried to keep the worst off but she would inevitably end up with wet hair and clothes by the end of her first lecture.<p>

Though she hated being wet and cold with no way of changing in the middle of the day, she did enjoy how out of sorts all the girls were. It was funny how melodramatic they all became when a drop of rain hit them. Elphaba supposed it was the only interesting thing that had happened in the place since they arrived. After all, there is no more fascinating topic of conversation than a sudden turn in the weather.

She watched the men jealously: they pushed each other about and got covered in dirt and slush. They were disgusting and messy and red with the exertion of it, and no one thought any the less of them. She wished she could join them. She always played like that at home. Here she had to be different. She had to be an adult, a woman, and adopt an academic attitude to her life, no matter how sorely she missed climbing tress and jumping brooks with her sister. Elphaba did not feel very much like a woman. She felt like a child gleeful in its pretence of adulthood.

She had met Fiyero on each visit she made to library. He was one of the happy party allowed to revel in the weather. She pretended to be irritated by his detailed descriptions of the games they played. It actually made her a little jealous that he had made a myriad of friends and she none, despite his own communicative disability. That was a selfish and unfair thought, however, and she put it to bed, never to wake.

They saw rather a lot of each other, as Elphaba did not like to spend time in her room in case she was accidentally locked in with Galinda. She could not explain why he was there so often, and always in her favourite spot. Thankfully he never questioned her again regarding her ability to sign with him. He was beginning to intrigue her: he was funny and sweet to her. It annoyed her beyond belief that she seemed completely unable to banish him from her mind. If she daydreamed, it was always about him and something he had said.

She amused herself by engineering private little bets on how far into insanity Galinda would descend each evening. Every day the rains got heavier and every day she came home from lectures in a more severe state of dishevelment. She would mock the distraught blonde as she squeezed out her sodden coat and scarf and gloves.

On one particular day, Galinda's face was creased with a sad little pout. "Oh dear." Elphaba quipped, swinging her legs over the side of her bed and letting them slap lightly on the quilt. "You've gotten yourself into quite a pickle this time."

Galinda lowered her hands, full of twisted materials from which she was attempting to squeeze the worst of the rainwater. "Excuse me, no one asked you."

"Alright then, Miss. Have it your way as per. But you don't have much of a grip there." Galinda's eyes narrowed and Elphaba lay back on her pillows, quite comfortable. Galinda turned back to her task with new-found ferocity and Elphaba watched her hopelessly wring out as much as she could. Her porcelain face was cracked and broken with anger and Elphaba was oddly reminded of her own little sister.

She was at the blonde girl's side faster than she knew, gently lifting the clothes and hanging them on the rail in front of the fire. She stoked the dying embers with a stick to strengthen them a little and moved the rail back to prevent soot stains. Galinda watched her curiously at first, before copying what she did with each ruined item.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked timidly. Galinda was still a bit alarmed by her, and she would flinch whenever the green girl made any sudden movements. Elphaba shrugged in response but allowed her to see a smile. "Thank you. I have no idea how to save these."

"It's your own fault for wearing them." Elphaba retorted, smoothing out a sweater. "In this kind of weather. Do you even have an umbrella?"

"I did." She admitted, shyly. "But with the wind it was easily destroyed in the first few gusts and I didn't want to spend more money for something that gave me nothing in return."

Elphaba fingered a suede cardigan hoping her friend would pick up on the irony of such a comment. Elphaba did not see that she got much out of most of her belongings, though Galinda wore them well. The joke was lost, of course, and Elphaba gave up and laughed instead. "Well then you'll have to invest in one or in a waterproof coat."

"Oh goodness, no! I look perfectly horrid in them! They have no shape and they make them in the most ghastly colours!" Galinda looked so mortified at the thought of it. Elphaba had never seen someone have such a violent reaction to the prospect of buying a waterproof coat. She had one.

"Alright then, get wet." She shrugged, leaving the blonde in the lurch.

Galinda looked crestfallen as Elphaba retreated to her bed again. "But – but my hair and my clothes! What will I do? I can't stay in until the Oz-damned weather stops and I can't stand looking like this every day. There has to be some other way. I will not be seen in one of those Oz awful coats!" She swallowed hard as it dawned on her that she had seen Elphaba in one. Well, that was different.

"Galinda, why does it even matter? Even with wet hair and a sour puss you're still the most beloved girl in the college and everyone adores you. You look more beautiful than I ever have . . . or ever will. You should appreciate what you have." Elphaba finished quietly, peering down through her glasses to read some text she did not really understand.

Galinda jumped excitedly on the bed next to Elphaba and tossed her book from the green girl's hands. Elphaba stared at them, not empty now but filled by the ivory-whites of Galinda. Their skins contrasted so sharply and yet seemed to slot happily into place next to one another. Elphaba frowned.

"Oh! You're so cute sometimes." Galinda chirruped, tossing her curls again. Her companion was silent, confused. "Elphaba, why are you being nice to me? I haven't been nice to you."

The green girl was taken aback that she would ask her so forthrightly about their relationship, if one could call it that. They barely interacted beyond that which they could not avoid as roommates. She did not know why she was being nice to her if all that had prompted her kindness was Galinda's resemblance to her sister. She did miss little Nessarose, though. "No you haven't been nice, but apart from your furious reaction the day we met you haven't really spoken to me either. Not that it's any excuse."

"I haven't spoken to you." Galinda repeated simply. Elphaba took the hint that she meant she had been spoken about by Galinda and her pretty little friends. Elphaba was hurt but not enough to show it and it certainly was nothing she had not dealt with in the past. It seemed Galinda meant to befriend her, and if she could have just one person to speak with then it was enough. She did not seem that malevolent. "I'm not the only one speaking to you, though." Galinda began, knowingly. "Am I?"

She leaned into Elphaba, peering up at her through think curving lashes. Elphaba had never really looked at her properly and so closely. Galinda really had a beautiful face. There was nothing imperfect about it. "I don't know what you mean." She did. She meant Fiyero.

"What about that Winkie Prince? You're the only person he really talks to."

"_Tries to._ And I'm the only person he can talk to, really. In case you hadn't noticed, Miss Galinda." Elphaba said, returning to the title. Galinda nodded. "He's annoying, like _you._" She said, leaning down until she was nose to nose with the blonde, who giggled and threw her head back.

"Am I? Oh how thrillifying, that means I'm getting somewhere!" She rejoiced, twirling about. "He's a very handsome Prince. Do you know much about him?" Elphaba shook her head. She really knew very little, though he always seemed determined to help rectify that problem. "Well I do." She placed herself delicately on the end of the bed, one dainty little foot tucked underneath. Her skirt was spread around her like a flower.

"He was born to King Minas and Queen Nanda of the Vinkus. He was one of seven other children born to that couple."

"Seven?" Elphaba said in shock. In all honesty a large family in Royalty was hardly surprising, especially out in the Vinkus and at that time. She said thoughtfully, "I was born around the same time, as were you. I remember an outbreak then."

Galinda nodded slowly. "Yes, precisely. The heat of the Vinkus did nothing to help those people. For three years it ravaged Oz, if you recall." Elphaba did. "It took his hearing. And five of his siblings." Elphaba and Galinda exchanged a look. Five children killed by the disease. It must have been devastating for them. "The only other to live wasn't affected at all; they had her removed from the Palace and sent to the Emerald City to live with family under diplomatic protection. A little girl."

"What's her name?"

"I don't know her name. I only know they're very close. Loved very much by the whole family."

"Enough to keep her from public knowledge."

"And public eyes. No one has ever seen her." Galinda said, her eyebrows up so high they almost met her hairline.

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "I hardly think it's a damning quality, Galinda. I can understand why they're so worried about her."

"Hardly letting her live much of a life though are they? She must be going stir crazy up there in the mountains. She can't have any friends, and any schooling she has must only make her hunger for a life they won't let her lead." Elphaba considered her point, impressed by Galinda a little, though she felt it had obsessed her to an abnormal level. "Queen Nanda and King Minas are and always have been very much in love. They are a beautiful family."

"You seem very interested in her."

"It fascinates me. I feel the little girl is living the unfortunate half of a fairytale because of something tragic that happened to her family twenty years ago that wasn't her fault." Galinda insisted, her light white hand slapping Elphaba's quilt.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, Galinda. They lost _five _children." Elphaba whispered, inching her own hand closer to Galinda's until the blonde took it in hers and wrapped her fingers round it. "And I don't really think it's any of our business." Galinda turned then, and gazed out into the heavy rains. She looked destitute at the thought of the little girl. "You really think she's being oppressed, don't you?"

She smiled sadly. "It just hurts my heart, Elphaba. I have no idea what that kind of loss, on that kind of scale must be like." Elphaba looked away from her. "I have no idea at all. It just seems to me that after twenty years it's time to start living again. I would have holed my daughter or my sister away, too, at first. But keeping her locked away in that place, lovely though it may be, is no life for her and no way to celebrate the memory of the people you have lost."

Elphaba brought her other hand forward to join the others. "You don't have any idea, my dear. I know twenty years may seem like a long time to you, and it is. But in relation to losing even just one person whom you love, it is barely a heartbeat." Galinda kept her eyes on the single finger Elphaba held up to represent the loss and watched how it shook a little when she put it away.

"Who have you lost, Elphaba?" The green girl snatched her hand back, her face became drawn and closed. Galinda got a fright at the strength of the change, from open to shut, that she saw in her friend's face. "Who, Elphie? Tell me, please."

"No." She said, hard of voice.

"Alright, alright." Galinda spoke quickly. Taking her hand again and tracing it with her thumb, lovingly, as Elphaba stood to get away. "If you do ever, I won't betray you, Elphaba. I'm not completely devoid of feeling just because I'm well off."

That made her smile. She had seen Galinda's strength of character this evening. "I know, my dear. I'm afraid that doesn't change anything."

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><p><em>Aw, Gelphie. <em>


	4. The Mistake

_**Author's Note:** I disclaim. _

_Apologies for the lack of an update, but I've been at Wicked in London for the past week and catching up on missed revision. However, having gotten my fix so recently it means I'm even more eager to delve into this story - despite the impending exams. Seriously though, if you have a chance, go see the London production. If she wasn't already married I would make a play for Rachel Tucker (Elphaba). She and Gina Beck are just magical together. _

_Also I'd like to make a small plug for the story 'You've Got Mail' by vinkunwildflowerqueen. She did not ask for this, it is completely of my own volition that I tell you here to go read and review it. She is my favourite fanfiction-er and this most recent adaptation is just brilliant in every way.  
><em>

_Enjoy the Chapter!  
><em>

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><p>"Well, well, well, look who it is." She said, standing in front of Fiyero. As she had expected he was sat on the blood red sofa on the side opposite hers. It was a warm space that afternoon, and Elphaba had woken in the morning quite eager to see him. Her spirits were lifted when she did, albeit only the back of his head.<p>

He turned and smiled at her. _Hello! _He put his book down, which she saw was a textbook called 'Society, Politics and Law in Oz during the Last Century.' It was by an author whose name she did not know and could not pronounce. She wondered if he was reading about the Vinkus and his family. _How are you? Soaked, I see._

"A bit. I've tried my best, but this rain is relentless. You seem warm." She said sarcastically. His clothes were wet themselves, and he had spread his coat out over a radiator and placed his shoes upside down on another. He laughed and pulled at his shirt, only for it to fall back with a wet slap on his skin. It lay there, settling in the curve of his chest. She did not laugh with him, her eyes intent on that spot.

_As you can see,_ he said, tipping his head in the direction of the clothes. _It wasn't thanks to any games though. Fields are too soft for sport today, you'll be glad to know._

"Oh, will I?" She asked, inquisitive.

He nodded. _Well of course. You seemed to want to join in whenever I've seen you passing, and the other day you kept asking me about it. _Her expression must have betrayed how alarmed and confused she was that he had noticed. _You know, you aren't as adept at hiding what you really think as you assume, Miss Elphaba. _

She shrugged, trying to shake him off. It was very dimly lit in here, not comfortable light for reading. "I don't pretend to be that way with you, on that subject anyway." She folded her arms and swivelled her body in his direction. "How d'you know that isn't what I want you to think? There is so much more to me than my desire or dislike to play in the rain, Tiggular."

_I know. But on this topic at least you're like an open book, Thropp._ He replied, playfully copying her name game. _That's enough to be going along with._

"But you aren't an open book to me, obviously. I know more about you, factually, but really you're" she took a dramatic breath and draped an arm on the rim of the couch, "shrouded in mystery." He chuckled once, but his eyes never wavered from her. "Where should we start then?"

_Where?_

"Well since you already know I like to play outside, rain or none, I think it's only fair I get to know some favourite pastime of yours, mister prince."

_Your Majesty. _

"We'll see." She said, smirking at him and sneering over the top of her glasses. He wore a seemingly permanent smirk. "What's this book then, you're reading?"

He looked at it, lying carelessly open on the table. _You want to know about that book? _As if it were the most uninteresting thing she could have chosen. She nodded simply and waited. He sighed. _You can read it yourself if you're that desperate._

"I don't care about the book, I care about why you're reading it." She pointed out. He had handed it to her, but now he took it back and let it slam with a painful bang on the coffee table. Elphaba winced a little. Was he annoyed with her? "What was that for?"

_What? _He asked, quickly, barely bothering to make the signs with his hands.

"Wait, what's the matter?" She asked, touching his hand without thinking. He looked down where her fingers lay, and she flinched back, thinking he disliked it.

_Nothing. I'm sorry. I had a bad day. I . . . I'm reading it for school, that's all. There, your perfectly uninteresting answer._

She pursed her lips. "But it leads me to so many other questions, if you don't mind?" She asked gently. She continued when he shook his head. "Good. What do you study?"

_Politics and Economy. _

"Heavy."

_Yes, and boring most of the time, but necessary._

"For your future office, Your Majesty."

He laughed. _For my office, Madame._

"Oh don't call me that please," she said, much more kindly than was her nature. Perhaps it was because she was trying not to offend him. She was making an unconscious effort to befriend him. "It makes me feel like Madame whats-her-face."

_Morrible, _he finished.

"You came up with that rather quickly. Don't tell me I remind you of her?"

He shook his head again. _Only in that you are both rather formidable women. You are, of course, more fascinating, intelligent and amusing. You are definitely preferable company and you are much more beautiful._

She flushed at the compliments, and imagined that she would have been pure white were she not green when his last words escaped his lips. She reminded herself, however, that they did not exactly mean he thought she was beautiful, only beautiful in comparison to Madame Horrible . . . no, Morrible. She chuckled to herself.

_What is it? What's so funny? It's true, you are –_

"No," she cut him off before he could finish and he looked a little amused, "I'm just thinking . . . Horrible Morrible!" He seemed to find it funnier how laughable she thought her own joke was rather than the wordplay itself, but he joined in with her nonetheless. "You know I'm going to end up saying that to her face one of these days."

_I could, and she would never know!_

"You could! You should! Although it isn't fun enough to warrant inventing an excuse to see her. Just wait for the next available opportunity." She advised, nodding with false solemnity and making him laugh again. Well, she assumed she was making him laugh; he could have been laughing at her for all she knew.

_Wait, _he said, getting up and moving to the window, _it's far too hot in here now._

"Your fault, you turned the bloody heaters up full." She said, pointing to them and picking up leaflet to utilise as a fan. He turned from the opened windows and stood in front of her, his palms open in front of her. "What?"

_Stand up, give me your jacket and sweater and I'll dry them, too. There's no sense in you suffering from hypothermia. We may as well both dry our clothes. Come on! _He repeated when she only sat there staring up at him. She almost shrieked when he began to unbutton her cardigan for her. _Sorry,_ he apologised. He did not move, though and she did not ask him to. She just pulled out each button, one by one, standing close to him until she could peel it off. She could even feel his heartbeat: it was quite fast, almost worryingly so. She shivered when he took it from her and his fingers lingered longer on her shoulders than necessary. Elphaba hoped her purple blush suited her; it seemed to be her permanent look around him. _You'll warm up in a bit, I promise. _

"That's alright." She said huskily. Her voice was not her friend that evening. "Thank you." He turned to her smiling.

_You're still cold? _He asked, seeing her try to conceal a shiver. _Here._ She sat timidly as he swung his jacket round her shoulders and rubbed her arms – to warm them up she presumed. _Is that better? _She nodded for want of the ability to speak. He was kneeling in front of her, leaning on her knees. The pressure, his weight on her, felt nice. It made her feel warm in more places than just her arms and knees.

Elphaba felt brave, in that moment. "I'm glad I met you, Fiyero." She said with a kind smile which he returned easily.

_I'm glad I left my glove here. _She let her smile grow so that her teeth were showing and a few long and lovely seconds passed during which he took a sincere interest in her fingers and traced invisible little patterns all over her hands. _What is it? _His happy expression, which up to that point had only been for her, suddenly opened up to the rest of the room as he noticed that hers seemed further away.

"It's just the music from downstairs." He frowned. "Tonight is the social for the Phil Soc. The Philosophy Society."

_Ah, that's what that is. I can feel it through the floor. _

Elphaba was unsurprised; from her experience she knew he might be able to sense the bass of the music. He may even have very good rhythm. As a Prince especially, she thought he must know how to dance, he must know how to charm his subjects in that way. They must have emphasised all these things in which his enemies would have expected him to fail. "It's alright." She meant the music. "But I imagine were I down there, that I would be bored out of my mind."

_Lucky for you then that you're here with me. _He winked at her and stood, pulling her up with him. She made a noise that would have caused her to blush darkly had he not been deaf. _I felt that; what kind of noise was that?_

"Damn, how did you know? I wish you'd pretend I didn't say anything."

_I think it must have been a very sweet noise. Though I'll admit I don't have the first clue what kind of sound that would be. If I could see it though, it would be bright and quick like a flash. _She lifted an eyebrow. He could so easily captivate her sometimes.

"What a pretty image. It can't be anything to do with me. I don't have much to do with pretty things. I can't stand the fuss."

_I disagree._ He replied, disregarding her statement with a frustrating sense of clarity. He did not let her argue. _Dance with me._

"I beg your pardon?" She asked, utterly confused and with the most unsubtle expression on her face trying to communicate how ridiculous his request was. "Dance? Fiyero, I don't dance. No."

_Oh come on, no one can see you. _He began to drag her out into the empty little space between the table and the window. Elphaba heard the music; it was slow. A good thing on one hand, because had it been fast she could see herself crashing into bookcases and toppling them completely. A very bad thing on the other because it meant they would have to slow dance. Why would he want to dance with her?

"Fiyero, listen, please." He let go of her hand, prepared to do as she asked. "I appreciate the offer, the request. I appreciate your asking me. No one ever has before, you know, so there you are. You're the first." He smiled a little, not at all satisfied with this accolade. "But I don't like to dance. I never have, I hate it in fact. It's embarrassing and awkward and . . . and you can't even really hear it. Why would you want to dance with me? I just don't understand and I don't want to."

_Because I like you. _

She paused. 'I like you' he had said. The sign he used to tell her that was not the usual sign to communicate amiable feelings. No, he had used the one employed only when one meant to show a feeling stronger than friendship and it was dangerously close to the sign for 'love.'

_And if you have really never danced before, then I would be honoured to be the one to teach you. Let's face it, you'll just have to learn one day and this is about as private a place as it gets at the moment. Would you prefer Galinda Upland taught you?_

"Galinda . . ." she mused. No, she would very much not like Galinda Upland to teach her. That would be the polar opposite of what she would like. However, she did not take much pleasure in having to dance with him, either. It seemed as though she would give in to his pleas. Never before had she cared, but in this case it seemed she would also not like for him to think her a wet blanket. "Fine."

He beamed and took the bold step to simply pull her into his arms. She had expected nothing less of him, if she was honest. She watched him think for a moment and knew he must be trying to feel the beat, the time signature of the music. So she counted it for him: one, two, three, one, two, three. It was a waltz.

Soon he had her backing up, and then tripping forward. She laughed, for wont of any other more appropriate reaction to embarrassment. He would have been effortless were it not for her.

"I'm holding you back." She complained, pushing him away. "And we can't talk when we dance. Well, I can, but you won't understand me and I'm hardly going to get an answer am I?" He bit his lip.

_It doesn't matter. Let's just dance. It's nice. _

He was right about that. Now that she had a vague idea of where she was meant to place her feet it got a little easier. He lifted her face up to look at him, frowning at her tendency to watch her feet. "Sorry." She mouthed as clearly as she could, to which he winked. That only made her break eye contact and look down again. Another upwards head tilt finally cemented its place. He did not wink the second time.

She could not keep looking at him. It was awkward because it was plain to both of them, at least she felt it was, that they were closer than friends would be. Had she ever actually called him a friend? What in Oz was going on here? She wanted to run away and tease him about being the only person to coax Elphaba Thropp into a show of physical affection.

Her body reacted entirely against this reasoning, however, and when she tried to shoot from him, her forehead suddenly found itself against his lips. Her eyes had been closed she realised, as they shot open and stared accusatorily at him. His expression was unreadable to her: was it soft and welcoming, or did it reflect hers? Was she even wearing the expression she thought she was?

Elphaba concluded her mind and the emotions she actually put across must have been very disparate when she voluntarily closed her eyes and let him kiss her. One would never have known he had never spoken a word before in his life as he seemed to know exactly what to with his lips and his tongue. It was Elphaba's first, and though she told herself she should be angry with him, she was not.

She responded happily. It was fast becoming her favourite thing to do. Also gloriously wonderful was the sensation of his hands on her back, pressing her firmly but affectionately to his chest, his body. Her own hands rested lamely on his neck, and she shook them to life to hold him gently in place at her lips.

Fiyero had deepened the kiss, from a timid touch of the lips to a braver and deeper passionate engagement once she encouraged him. She made a happy, contented moan when his right hand slipped down her lower back. Oh Oz, this was wonderful. She had not considered that she might be harbouring sexual frustration towards him but the tight pain in her pelvis told her that such was definitely the case.

Elphaba got scared when they slowed and began to stop: what was she supposed to say when they pulled apart? How would he look at her? Questions over his intentions suddenly filled and overflowed in her mind and she felt utterly overwhelmed. As fast as lightning, she shoved him back, his face a mixture of the quiet happiness from their kiss and the dawning shock from her violent physical response.

He could barely register she was not in his arms before she had thrown her things together and sped from the room and out of the door. He tried his best to find her the next day, but he was not allowed to her room and no porter would disclose either her whereabouts or when she was likely to come and go. She had no friends to speak of who either would help him or who would even have the first idea where she might be.

She never came to the library again and they did not see one another at all. Soon, they broke up for Lurlinemas and Fiyero was to go home. He left a letter for her with the porter and with a sadder heart than ever, left Shiz for the mountains of the Vinkus.

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><p><em>Oh Elphie, but don't you realise you are meant to be together?<em>


	5. The Visit

**Author's Note: **_I disclaim. _

_I'm just so excited about this story and proud of how it's going so far, that I'm updating this one a little early. Also I feel that after a long day revising something I have little interest in I should let this next chapter out into the world. Let me know what you think, this chapter really is my favourite so far.  
><em>

_Enjoy!  
><em>

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><p>"What do you mean, we have <em>visitors?<em>" Elphaba asked tentatively, as though the very word was poison. She sat hunched over her place at the dinner table, next to her father and opposite her sister, for whose benefit they were both signing.

"This is not something I need to explain to you, Elphaba." Her father sighed in irritation, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm a government official and we must entertain foreign diplomats to maintain relationships."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "That's not what I asked." She knew it was common for her father to entertain guests, foreign and domestic. She knew it was her duty to organise their visit. She knew she had to make up their rooms if they were staying in the Governor's Mansion or arrange for accommodation in town if not. She would have to plan menus and more often than not she would cook the meals herself. It was not expected of her, but it was preferable to being around her father, and he never came into the kitchen. She always ensured she was at the table for the meals, however, and she soaked up everything she could, noting any prurient facts or information she could utilise. It was no secret in their family that Elphaba wanted to work, nor was it secret that she would do anything to be away from Munchkinland.

_Who are the visitors, Papa?_ Nessarose asked, carefully placing her cutlery on her plate so it made only the slightest sound. Elphaba lifted her gaze from her father and watched the little girl to her left; she was so tiny and so beautiful. Elphaba loved to watch her and had done since the day she was born. It was her job and she loved it. Nessarose was a gorgeous young girl.

"Well my dear," her father began, mirroring the way his youngest daughter had set down her knife and fork, though not with half so much grace. "These visitors are very special indeed," he told her, "and we must take extra care with them." Elphaba's heart ached a little as she realised what this meant for her. "They are _royalty._" He said with raised eyebrows and reddening cheeks.

Suddenly, the heart that was suffering at the thought of preparing a meal for these _very special _guests stopped in its tracks and then took off at a gallop. Oh god no, she thought. Her face took on a thousand-yard stare and she let her cutlery fall with a clatter. "Sorry." She said softly, when they both turned to her, Nessarose following her father. "My bad."

Frexspar continued, gaining the attention of his daughter by gently waving to her. "They are the King and Queen of the Vinkus and accompanying them is their son, the Prince of the Vinkus."

Nessarose clapped her hands together, though not deliberately, and grinned at her sister with a smile that made Elphaba laugh, too, despite her uneasiness. _Oh isn't that so exciting, Elphaba? Father we should host a party for them! _

Elphaba frowned at her. Nessarose knew very well what Elphaba would have to do for such a party, and now that the apple of her father's eye had suggested it she knew it was to go ahead, come what may. She sighed and stared blankly at her plate. She had lost her appetite.

_What is the Princes' name, Father? _

"Fiyero Tiggular." He replied, proudly. "It's a terrible shame, really. The family were badly affected by Meningitis years and years ago and it left him deaf, just like my dearest girl here." Nessarose's dark eyes widened at these words and Elphaba knew exactly why. Much like the young Tiggular girl whose family kept her holed away in the Vinkus, their father had never let little Nessarose roam further than the front garden. This would be the first time she had ever met anyone with the same disability. "I'm sure he is a very nice young man."

Yes, he is a very nice young man, Elphaba thought. The memory of him brought a hot, sharp blush to her cheeks and caused her eyes to become unfocused. She blinked twice and concentrated much harder on not eating her meal than before.

"Elphaba, please do not send that food back to the kitchens untouched. I will see that you eat well here, even if your mealtimes are erratic at university." Her father lectured. A touching display of affection, she knew, although she could and had in the past argued that it boasted of some underlying fondness on her father's part. He was not neglectful of her health, put it that way. To his credit, he always ensured that both his daughters were well cared-for. In Nessarose's case that meant the care provided by Elphaba. So, perhaps his care over her well being only went so far as it pertained to Nessa.

"Father, no one will care. I made the meal, as I usually do. The only person who would be offended is me, and I am not offended. If you don't want me to waste food then I'll cover it and have it tomorrow." She offered, and he nodded without looking at her.

"Just see that you have something. You should not be hungry." He said, with a hint of warning in his low, gruff tones. Nessarose smiled at her sister when she caught her eye; that tone of voice was one he only ever adopted for Elphaba, and Nessarose was convinced it was his awkward way of showing affection, though Elphaba refused to take her opinion on the matter seriously, constantly reminding herself that Nessarose had never actually _heard _it. Elphaba would much rather he gave her a smile. She wondered if he would realise all she did before she left to work abroad, following graduation. After that, Nessarose would be old enough to fend for herself and there would be no big sister waiting round every corner and holding her hand when she crossed the road.

"I will." Elphaba said quietly.

_Elphaba, I'd like to go for our walk tonight. It's getting warmer now, and I'd been waiting for you to come home. Father didn't want me going out by myself, and you know he can't walk the distance I like. _Nessa smiled eagerly at her, like a child salivating before a thick and tasty ice cream on a hot day. Nessa loved ice cream.

Their father sniffed. "Oh, my dear Nessarose, you know I would go on the hikes with you –"

_Walk, father. I would no more enjoy a hike than a Munchkin who'd just learned to walk. _Elphaba laughed at the image. _I understand. It's alright. _She reassured him. Nessarose had always been accommodating of everyone, but she would cut through any pretence and could sniff out a liar a mile away. She often argued with Elphaba, but they kept each other's confidences.

"Nessa I would love to go tonight. In fact, you're both finished and I'm not hungry really. What do you say I clear this up and then we can go, hm? Give me fifteen minutes, Nessa." Her sister thanked her and offered to help, which Elphaba naturally declined.

"Elphaba," her father began as he rose from his seat and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a blue cotton napkin. "I shall be checking that plate before I go to bed, and whether you eat some now or after your walk, I want to see that you have made a substantial crack and taking on some nourishment. Is that clear?" He said, staring down at her – though she was not so much smaller than him – and peering over half-moon spectacles. She suddenly realised from whom she had inherited her peering tendencies. She would put a stop to that.

"It is, father." She replied plainly.

In fifteen minutes Elphaba quickly wrapped up and stored the leftover food, most of which came from her plate and put it away. She washed three plates, three side plates, three sets of forks and knives, three tablespoons, two tumblers, one wineglass, four small serving bowls, one wooden platter, a carving knife and four large spoons. She soaked and pressed three napkins and aired and folded one large and very heavy tablecloth. By the time she emerged from the kitchen buttoning her coat loosely, the dining room and kitchen were both pristine and her little sister stood happily waiting at the door for her.

"Do I need to ask if you're ready?" She laughed. Nessarose giggled and swung the doors open. They were taking a wonderfully scenic route which traversed the land belonging to the Governor of Munchkinland and his family. Of course, Nessa was more than able to walk the way herself, but she never did without her sister, and vice versa. It was always a private walk for the sisters.

If perfectly timed, which on that night it happened to be, they would emerge from a promenade lined with tall evergreens onto a flat plain of wild grass cropped short by grazing cattle. Where the land met the banks of the lake there grew water lilies, and, at sunset, the whole landscape was like gold and just as precious.

_Tell me about Shiz. _

Nessa's request interrupted the silent respect they had been observing for the walk so far, though it was hardly unwelcome. Elphaba, however, seemed reluctant to answer immediately. She was afraid of giving something away, though her silence would most likely speak louder than her words.

"Shiz is busy, loud and hectic. I've learned very quickly how to weave in and out of crushing crowds without getting my pockets picked." Nessa smiled, but raised her brow in clear anticipation of more information: that was not the kind of thing she wanted to know about. "Oh Nessa." Elphaba sighed. "It's the same as here, in that respect."

_In what respect? _She asked sarcastically.

"That kind of humour is very unbecoming in a lady." Her sister warned.

_You do it all the time! _

"I'm not a lady." She stated simply, earning her a roll of the eyes from her sister. "I mean they all look at me funny and whisper their little jokes and even though – I know – it isn't anything I haven't heard before . . . I don't know. I was hoping for a little more understanding. I thought people there might be more open. They have so many more Animals on the staff than I've seen here." She gleefully informed a happy Nessa.

_Well Elphaba. It's gonna be like that everywhere I fear. Isn't there anyone? With whom do you share a room? They haven't made you stay in a dormitory have they? Father would – _

"Oh god no. No, I share a room." The black cloud over her eyes made Nessa start.

_Dear me, not a pleasant experience?_

"Hardly worth the bother. She's Galinda Upland, and apparently everyone has heard of her, or so she tells me."

_I know of Galinda Upland. _Nessa stated, her head sticking up in the air.

"I'm sorry, but do I detect pride in such an abominable admission? How in Oz do you know about Galinda Upland?" Elphaba asked, ashamed of her interest.

_I know of her family. I suppose I wouldn't be telling you anything new by saying they are socialites?_

"Nope."

_Indeed. Actually, they're quite good people. Her mother is the president of People for the Protection of Children in Poverty, or PPCP, which sounds unfortunately close to the name of the drug, but nonetheless it is a good and solid charitable body. _

"I know."

_And her father is – well, he's a Judge. A Lord actually but not the kind whose title is inherited. _

"He's in politics, yes. Galinda speaks very fondly of him." Elphaba admitted. Galinda had given a long and detailed family history to her, but Elphaba had only retained a few not so pertinent facts.

_She should, she is their only child. _

"I'll try to contain my amazement." She said to herself, turning her head towards the sun, which had now almost completely disappeared beneath the horizon. "Well, Galinda is not the most intriguing part of university."

_Well of course not, but I've heard all about your courses, I know how well you like them and your professors, but I want to know the things you would not tell father. _Elphaba snorted. _I saw you start when father mentioned the Tiggulars._

Elphaba blinked at her sister, stopping in her tracks and then running to catch up. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" The young girl shook her head gladly. "I may have met him. Before, once."

_Once?_

Elphaba took a deep breath. "More than once."

_More than once?_

"What is it with you and repeating things? What, are you a parrot now?"

_You've met him more than once? _She persisted.

She groaned. "Ugh! Yes!"

_Well how many times? Come on, he knows you? He's a Prince! That is quite an impressive contact. Father will be pleased._

"NO!" She grabbed Nessa's arm and made her stand still. "No, please. Don't tell him. All I am praying for is that he doesn't come over as the sharing guru when he arrives."

_What are you so afraid of? Was he rude?_

They walked on for a moment. The open plain grew smaller and became a soft sand and gravel path. It led to green fields and flower beds. Elphaba chewed on her lip. "He was lovely. Nessa, he was a perfect gentleman." She kicked at a few stones. "We have a lot in common, of course." Nessa smiled politely. "I spent a lot of time with him. I let him kiss me."

_Well, that is a lot of time._

"Please don't take it that way, Nessa." Elphaba begged, imploring her sister desperately.

The young girl smiled softly. _I'm teasing you, Elphaba. So you like him?_

Her sister's face slowly contorted into confusion. "I don't know. It's strange. I don't know what to think about him."

_But you think about him._

It was a statement, not a question, so Elphaba did not even try to answer it. So, they continued on in silence, walking along the road as their feet crunched stones under them. It was warm for that time of year, and they were sheltered by the thick woods of evergreens and Quox firs that rose into the air and always knew it was morning before everyone else. In time, they passed empty fields of thorns and weeds which during summer would have been beds of thick, bright roses and tall greens wet grasses. Soft rolling hills began to rise in the distance and Elphaba led Nessarose to the very ends of the fields where a few flowers had managed to survive. The young girl picked them, taking care to avoid the sharp cold thorns of the stems that had died.

"That's them all now, come on now, little one."

Elphaba took out her braid and used the hair tie to fix the stems together as they walked through a dark grove. Eventually it opened out onto a small enclosed grove. The only light was that of the moon, and it cast a perfect spotlight on the only marked point of interest in the whole area.

Nessa ran quickly over to the tall carved marble stone that stood proudly in the corner. It took Elphaba a little longer to bring herself to stand before it.

_Melena Thropp. _Nessa read from the gravestone. The elaborate cursive made Elphaba smile; everything she knew about her mother had been sophisticated and expensive, so it was only fitting that her resting place reflected that, too. _Beloved Wife and Mother, May she Rest in Peace. _And below it read the year of her birth and death. She had only been twenty-six. Elphaba's heart always beat painfully when she remembered that, and from the dreadful expression on her sister's face, she bet Nessa felt the same.

After a minute or two, Nessa turned to her sister. _May I? _She asked, holding out her hands for the flowers. Elphaba nodded and stood back as Nessarose lay them at the feet of their mother, so gently. _Tell me about her again, please._

Elphaba's expression remained blank; Nessa always asked this same question every time they paid this visit. And every time, Elphaba and she would sit cross-legged on the grass as she told different stories about their mother. She figured Nessa knew them by heart at this point, and she thought she must have embellished some if not all of the facts. After all, she had only been very young when she died, and most of her memories were snapshots of events, moments caught by her mind, the details of which had been filled in by fancy and grief.

"Mother always bent to my misbehaviour." She said softly, holding her sister's hand. "She would let me out with no shoes and a dirty face and I could spend the whole day out in the marshes, with animals, or reading a book while hidden in the tall grass."

_Which book?_

Elphaba laughed. "I don't remember, little one. But," she said, "it was never the same book, and Mother always gave it to me. She would let me wander freely, as long as she could hear me. She sang all the time."

_Folk songs?_

"Yes. Mostly Gillikin, ones her own mother must have sung to her." She lifted her eyes up to the moon. It was such a clear night, and she could see all the stars so clearly. "My memories of her are so rose-tinted, though. She was never the one who disciplined me."

_Father? _

"No." She was reluctant to speak about him then, because she really had no idea whether he had been better or worse than he was after she died. "Nanny did most of it. Father was building his ministry then, so much of his time was spent out in the markets and villages. They're all connected now, but at that time, all the houses and adjoining buildings weren't built. It was an hour to the nearest croft."

_It must have been lovely. _Nessa said, sighing, as though the old world her sister had painted for her was a million times better than the one she had been raised in. The grass is always greener, Elphaba supposed, but Nessarose really had no idea how good her life was. She would learn, though. She was not as spoiled as all that, and she was clever. Elphaba knew a lot of that had to do with the idea of her mother being alive. She would always think that kind of world better than anything her father could ever give her.

Nessarose knew she would never see or speak to her mother, and she knew that her sister loved her more than anything. She saw it in everything Elphaba did and she had the strange ability for a girl of her age to be aware that what her family did was for her own good. Having been deaf from birth, she had just accepted her fate and learned to rely on her family.

The problem was that Frexspar knew that. He knew he would never make up for Melena's death, and Elphaba would never be the mother-figure she was trying to fulfil. He knew nothing he could do would give his daughter the ability to hear her own voice. But rather than resigning himself to acceptance, it only made him redouble his efforts again and again.

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><p><em>I really adore the idea of Elphaba and Nessa having a strong and sweet sisterly love for one another. The current London ElphieNessa have a hint of this in their performances and it just adds that extra dimension to their characters, and of course heightens the tragedy of Act II. _


	6. The Guests

_**Author's Note: **I disclaim.  
><em>

_I had one of those amazing breakthroughs regarding where this story is gonna go and I'm so happy with it. Be warned, it is not all happy but I guarantee you it is dramatic.  
><em>

_Enjoy! And review - I love to hear from you :)  
><em>

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><p><em>Paps, don't you dare! <em>

"Fiyero, why in Oz are you so wound up?" His father asked, utterly at a loss to explain his son's sudden nervousness. He had always enjoyed his joked before. They frequently made visits like this one to Munchkinland, and the only reaction they had ever really elicited had ranged from boredom to polite concern. "I know Governor Thropp has a bit of a reputation for discipline, but I hardly think that is something _you _need worry about."

Fiyero shook his head and fixed his hard eyes on the scenery as it passed by. His parents, confused and a little concerned, left him to his thoughts and hoped that once they were settled he would cheer up.

"I don't understand your son, Nanda." Her husband said, fixing leather gloves on furiously.

"_My _son? Excuse me, but when he's in a mood like this he is _your _son. You are both currently sporting the same look on your face." She laughed happily. Her husband huffed and his eyes widened when he looked at Fiyero and saw the truth of it on his face. "Like father, like son." She laughed.

Fiyero ignored his parents. Adrenaline rushed through his veins like never before. He had not even been this nervous when he sat his entrance exam for Shiz. He felt sick, but he put that down to the movement of the carriage. He kept smoothing his hair and checking for food in his face, embarrassing trouser malfunctions and altogether the whole thing made him look schizophrenic to his parents.

"Fiyero, calm down. For goodness' sake, it's only Munchkinland. Governor Thropp even has a daughter at Shiz, you should get along with her."

Fiyero put all his efforts into not reacting to his mother's words. She usually succeeded in calming him down, and she usually saw through every pretence he tried to maintain. He did not care if she knew it was precisely _that _daughter whose very name made him hyperventilate, he simply cared if Elphaba noticed it.

He had, of course, no idea what her reaction to their arrival would be. The last time she saw him he had utterly humiliated himself. Over the course of time since they had seen one another, Fiyero had convinced himself that he had behaved horribly, had ruined their friendship, destroyed her trust and established a reputation that he was desperate to undermine. All he could think of was trying to prove the goodness of his character.

The weeks apart made no difference to his feelings for her; he still thought she was wonderful and beautiful, even if she was moody, moany, judgemental and a bit selfish. He would see her at Shiz, so now all he wanted to do was show that he could respect her obvious wish to stay out of her sight.

"What a beautiful sight this place is." His mother said, gently pushing back the curtains and pointing out the workers in the fields as they drew the animals in for the night. The ground itself had been worked as hard as it could all year. The Harvest was well past and the working year at an end. Nevertheless, Munchkinland was a poet's dream, despite the extent of its swampy marshes. Fiyero smiled a little when he remembered Elphaba telling him she loved to wade through the mud. "Ah, see. That seems to have cheered you up!"

_What? _

His mother shook her head and turned to Minas, fixing his ties and livery after they had become rumpled and undone during their journey.

"Son, there we are. Look, it's Colwen Grounds. They're famed for their food, apparently. I've heard they have the best cook in town."

Fiyero's stomach groaned and flipped at the sight of the admittedly grand house. They could not yet see the inner court where they would stop, so Fiyero drew his head in from the window and ensured again that he looked smart and nonchalant.

Too soon, far too soon, they halted.

"Alright, my dear." His father said, helping his mother step down. Fiyero could just see his dramatic and pathetic fall from the carriage to the ground. He could hear the voices of the family Thropp outside and, gripping the sides for safety, descended himself without any eventful falls.

Immediately he looked up, and saw her. She was shaking hands with his father, a beautifully happy smile on her face. There was absolutely no sign that she might be uncomfortable or worried. He was totally confused.

"Governor, this is our son, Prince Fiyero." His father informed the older man. Frexspar Thropp was completely bald and wearing a flowing robe and skirted the floor elegantly. It must be his livery, Fiyero assumed, shaking the man's hand firmly and hoping his palms were not quite as sweaty as they felt.

_Please, it's Fiyero, Governor_. He insisted, signing habitually before he could remember that the man might have no idea what he was saying.

But Frexspar smiled kindly and replied. "A pleasure young man, welcome to Munchkinland. These are my daughters, Elphaba and Nessarose." Fiyero frowned and caught his breath in confusion. His eyes darted about until he saw them. Nessarose turned and stretched her hand out towards him, which he gratefully shook.

_I'm so very glad to know you, your Highness._ She signed and he noted that she her lips did not move.

It dawned on him then and his face grew very hot. Fantastic, he thought. _Call me Fiyero, Miss Nessarose. I'm pleased to meet you, too. _He tried very hard not to look at Elphaba at all, though his heart beat furiously in his chest knowing that he would have to see her in a moment, especially when he had no clue if she would want him to pretend they had never met. For now, the young girl nodded happily and followed her father.

"Well, let us go in, shall we?" The Governor suggested, gesturing towards the open doors.

_But – _Fiyero began, and let hid hands drop. She had introduced herself to everyone but him and he seemed to be the only one who had noticed the oversight. She had gone in first and now he would hardly be able to catch up with her. His mother beckoned after him and he reluctantly followed, nervous no longer.

As the evening wore on, he began to think he was invisible to her: his parents engaged her in conversation in the living-room before she led them all to their rooms. He thought his opportunity to acknowledge her would come when she had to walk past him to go back downstairs, but somehow she managed to vanish from the area completely before he could even catch a breath.

"Aren't those young ladies so lovely, Fiyero? And the eldest is such a bright girl, wouldn't you say?" His mother asked him.

He only stared in response. _Mother, I didn't even speak to her. Did you not see? We – weren't introduced. _

She smiled and patted his shoulder. "Oh now, I'm sure that isn't so." She said, removing her travelling cloak and laying out a gown for dinner. They had been told it would be served in under an hour and asked to join the family on the porch beforehand. Fiyero wondered if anyone would notice if he just grabbed Elphaba and kissed her. Would _she _even notice?

_Ma, come on. She didn't even shake my hand. _

"Well I'm sure she was just busy. It is obviously her duty to be hostess, son." She pointed out, sitting him down on the end of their bed. "The girls' mother died when the youngest was born, you know. Elphaba must have learned to do all these things when she was very young. She is perhaps just feeling overwhelmed." Fiyero nodded, realising how right his mother was. "Nessarose was born deaf, darling. They've not had it very easy."

_Neither have we. _He signed, though his hands showed neither effort nor care. It was not something he said easily. His mother gave him a pointed look and rose to return to her jewels. With nothing else to say, and his father enjoying a smoke on the balcony, Fiyero adjourned to his own room. It was finely furnished, warm, with thick quilts and pillows filled with softest down. A sweet, light scent could be detected if he stood in certain spots; Elphaba's perfume.

_Oh god. _He signed, though no one was there to see him. _I can _smell _her? Perverted. _He said, slightly ashamed. Still, he stood still for a moment. She must have been the one to dress these rooms, he reasoned. In a moment, he had gathered himself and dressed for dinner, trying not to over-estimate the formality whilst not making his debut as a tramp.

_Prince Fiyero, come join us. _

Nessarose greeted him happily as he and his parents came onto the porch. The sun was setting, and what a glorious view it afforded. _Miss Nessarose, this view is incredible. How do you take your eyes off it? _He inquired politely, and the young girl smiled and handed him a glass of light wine. It was the Munchkinlander wine, fruity and sweet to taste but like Vinkun wine could sweep you off your feet if undiluted. Fortunately, their glasses had clearly been mixed with at least four fifths of water.

It came to Fiyero that it might be best if he simply followed Elphaba's lead. She seemed to think there was no need to mention that they had met as Shiz as their parents did not think they knew one another. Although Fiyero was aware that he was basing a lot of his approach on having observed her behaviour for roughly three minutes altogether.

_It's usually far too cold to stand out here at this time of year, but it is beautiful. _Nessa told him, sipping her wine prudently. She reminded him so much of his sister back home.

"Good evening, Fiyero."

He blinked at Elphaba for a few moments without responding, long enough to make him look like a fool in front of her and her sister. She stared at him like he had lost his mind.

"Something wrong?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. A self-satisfied smirk played at the corner of her mouth, too. He had seen that before. Usually, he loved it, but that night it annoyed him. Maybe it was wrong to have kissed her out of the blue that night, but as he remembered, she had kissed him back. He did not deserve to be played like this.

Dinner passed uneventfully. She hardly spoke to him or looked at him at all, save for any accidental glances. He had more conversation with her little sister than with her, and it annoyed him. Although she never once gave him that look again, rather, he felt she was avoiding him. If either of their family members made an attempt to invite them into the conversation she would avoid directly responding. At least he knew she was not indifferent to him.

* * *

><p><em>Oh Elphaba, come and look at these! <em>Cried Nessarose as she ran towards her sister from the middle of a crowded bazaar and dragged her reluctantly to the table where she and Fiyero Tiggular had been rifling through fabrics.

"Nessa, what are you doing?" Elphaba hissed, digging her feet in where she could, to little effect. "Nessa. I'm not interested in bloody scarves." She warned. Fiyero's parents had asked to see the city of Munchkinland that morning, and Nessarose, having waited for her sister's return to go out into town, was more than eager to guide them through the streets. In the end, the entire household had joined the expedition, with a reluctant Elphaba bringing up the tail end.

She had hoped she might get the house to herself for a morning. She hardly ever got any privacy.

The younger girl frowned and scoffed. Elphaba thought how unbelievably strong she could be when she wanted. _Stop being so difficult! _

Before Elphaba could do anything about it, she had been pulled directly next to Fiyero, who looked at her with a tentative smile. She could tell he had probably told Nessarose that she would not be interested. _Morning. _He said, curtly, barely bothering to lift his hands.

_Look, aren't these beautiful, Elphaba? Such rich colours! Fiyero says these are from the Vinkus. Especially the blues and reds. _Nessarose was very proud of herself for imparting such culturally valuable information. She beamed at them both and Elphaba felt she should reward her with an apple.

"They're lovely." Elphaba consented. They _were _lovely, she thought. So much vivid colour and wild patterns. So this is what the Vinkus is like? She asked herself. She ran her fingers along one particularly fetching length of fabric. It was blood red, with vibrant emerald green bands sewn onto the trims and brilliant yellow fringes laced along the edges.

_That one, the one you have Elphaba, it's beautiful. _Nessa said, smiling happily.

"Mhmm. It is." She said, not bothering to sign. She lifted the scarf up and down and watched how it billowed in the air and settled shimmering in her arms. She had never quite seen anything as lovely. She smiled at her sister.

_How much is it Elphaba? You should buy it. _Nessa told her.

Elphaba coughed nervously when she turned saw the price marked on the tag. She would never be able to spend that much on something. It made her heart sink sadly. Trying not to betray her disappointment, she folded the material carefully and shook her head. "It isn't really my – it wouldn't go with anything." She lied. Nessa frowned and fingered the scarf after her sister stormed off in the other direction. Fiyero raised his brow in surprise but his smile made Nessarose relax. She liked him – he was teaching her not to take her sister's moods so seriously.

_Go on, Nessarose. She went towards the seamstresses. _Fiyero told the girl, whose eyes lit up at the realisation. He watched her run off, before returning to the table where Elphaba's scarf lay.

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><p><em>Oh Elphie. <em>


	7. The Prince's Progress

_**Author's Note: **I disclaim._

_I am so very excited about where this story is gonna go and I can't wait to finish it - but considering I have very important exams coming up in the next two weeks it may mean a slight delay in chapters. Just know that I will update as regularly as possible. :)  
><em>

_Enjoy!  
><em>

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><p>As Fiyero returned to join his hosts, he found them browsing through the delicate work of another woman. Her tables and trunks held vast miles of beaded gowns and sewn lace and for the first time he noticed Elphaba doing more than simply feeling the silk of the dresses in her hands. She seemed to be holding them up to her skin and observing how well the length of the sleeve fit her. She would stretch out her fingers as though the frock were already hers, but each time she would throw it away and back into insignificance after only a few moments.<p>

Elphaba discarded one gown in anger, and yet in a few moments he watched her pick up another.

He walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder. _What was wrong with that one? _ He asked.

She seemed to consider him for a moment; her eyes darting around the marketplace as though speaking to him were some thought-crime she would be punished for. "Excuse me?" She eventually said.

_That gown, what was wrong with it that you threw it away? _Her expression remained the same. She had heard him the first time, and though the answer seemed obvious enough to her, she was struggling to phrase it correctly. _I thought it looked good on you. _

"What?" She sputtered, frowning at him.

He laughed a little. _It was much easier to have a conversation with you at Shiz, you know. _

She snorted. "Well whose fault is that?" She asked him, exhausted from trying to avoid him all day, and finally willing to give in. "And it's none of your business!" She insisted, tossing aside another gown and storming past him.

_Wait, wait! _He said, blocking her way and earning only and angry sigh in response. _What are you talking about? _

Her jaw dropped and she seemed to hiss at him. "What do you _think _I'm talking about?"

_Now wait a minute, you kissed me back. _

"Well you shouldn't have done it in the first place." She spat, stepping in so close to him that in the moment after she had finished he could have kissed her again.

_Elphaba please, I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that. _

She laughed and shoved his hand away when he held it. "Take advantage of me? Oh please, you hardly did that." He frowned and fought to keep up with her as she walked through the crowds. "I just don't want to talk about it."

_Why? _

"No, you see this is exactly the question I want to avoid."

_Why?_

"Fiyero please!" She exclaimed, standing still suddenly. She spoke quietly but firmly to him, and he bit his lip nervously seeing her hide her signing from the prying eyes of others. "I don't understand why you want to know. I don't understand why this is so important to you and I don't want to. For Oz' sake it was _one kiss! _I would've thought you would want to keep a stupid thing like that a secret, especially with me."

He tried to take her hand again, but she pulled it away and fixed them both behind her back. _I'm not telling anyone. I'm just talking to you. Elphaba, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't want to and I'm going to ignore the suggestion that you think I'd be horrified if people knew I liked you._

"Please." She begged. "Leave me alone."

He wanted to allow her that privacy, but he was too involved now. Slowly he shook his head. _No. _She frowned at him and made to speak again but her took her hands and kissed them before she could yank them away again. He let her hands fall from his before turning away again and walking ahead of her to join his parents.

If she was not speaking to him before, she certainly made a poignant effort to ignore him after their conversation. Not only had he irritated her, but he had done it in front of the midday marketplace crowd, most of whom would have a field day over the proximity of the green girl and the Winkie Prince.

All of a sudden in her head she saw the headlines of the next morning's newspapers reading line after line about her and Fiyero. She pictured beating him to death with a rolled-up tabloid. She was probably overreacting, but she could not help being angry at him. She knew ranting to Nessarose later on would make her feel better, but she could just see the girl rattling off a phrase about how she seemed to be complaining about Fiyero an awful lot, and decided against it.

Elphaba could feel Fiyero's eyes on her back as she walked in front of him. When Nessarose walked beside her, Elphaba linked their arms and set her jaw so firmly that she dared not argue, though she was desperate to know what had upset her so much, given that she had missed the actual exchange.

Elphaba knew her behaviour was giving away the very thing she wished to keep secret, but she was just so furious with him that it did not seem to matter anymore. She was more concerned with letting him know how she felt.

Not needing to sense the tension as she could easily have cut it with a knife, Nessarose suggested the party return to the house earlier than usual. The Lurlinemas chills that had set upon the country early that year were in her favour as an excuse and the King and Queen were quick to agree with her.

Frexspar was proud of his youngest for what he saw as a diplomatic attention to detail regarding the unspoken feelings of their guests, and hurried them all back home with haste and in comfort. As soon as they returned, Minas and Nanda made it clear they looked forward to a leisurely and quiet evening, where they might enjoy a walk through the farmlands surrounding Colwen Grounds. Glad to be freed from duty, Elphaba rushed past them all faster than a flying monkey and up the stairs to the attic space.

Though Nessarose did not know exactly where her sister had gone, she could guess with fairly reliable certainty. If it was the attic space she thought it was, it meant her sister wanted no visitors. Bar none.

As she began to follow her father and the King and Queen to the west wing lounge where they had not before spent an evening, she felt a fierce tug on her sleeve and almost went flying back into the wall with the force of it.

_Nessa! _Fiyero began, catching her before she could lose her footing but dispensing with apologies. _I need to talk to you. _

_About what? _She asked, checking to see if he had yanked her blouse out of shape as she feared. Ruffling it out, he had not, but her elbow ached.

_Elphaba. _He said, simply.

She slapped her lips together in unease and checking the stairs though she knew Elphaba would not be making an appearance. _I don't know Fiyero. _Nessarose said, shifting around uncomfortably under his gaze. She pressed her skirts down and smoothed them out nervously.

_Nessa, she's upstairs and too angry with me to come down anytime soon. She won't see you, and since she won't talk to me I'm going to have to talk to you. _

_About what? _

_About her! _

_What could you possibly want to know? And what makes you think I would tell you? _

_Nessa, I know you know what we did in the library. _He said, staring her down and watching bold fear creep into her face.

_I – she told me. _She admitted, relaxing a little more. Fiyero moved round so she faced away from the house, lest Elphaba or either of their parents should show face. _What do you want to know? _

_I just want to know what she thinks of me. _

_Why?_

Fiyero sighed and glanced quickly back at the landing as though Elphaba could see right through the floor and the walls. _Because I like her. Is that alright? I'm not looking to hurt her. _

Nessa rolled her eyes. _I know you're not, but I'm not in the habit of betraying Elphaba's confidence. I don't feel very comfortable doing this. _

Fiyero shook his head. _I'm not asking to know anything that personal. I just want to know if she's angry with me. You know, you said you know what happened right? _Nessa nodded, her gaze trained on her hands, which were stretching her skirt into a tight knot nervously. _I don't know what she said or how she worded it, but I want it to be made clear that I have never felt about anyone the way I do about Elphaba. So if you won't tell me anything, I'd just like you to know that. _Nessa looked at him then, a small smile on her face. _And you know, if it should come up in a conversation you have with her, better and better. _

Giving up on the conversation he had hoped would be a little more fruitful than it turned out to be, Fiyero turned away and walked to the deck. Eyes closed, he took a deep refreshing breath of air. At first this trip had made his heart freeze up in fear; he had intended to keep as much distance between himself and Elphaba as possible and then approach her when they returned to Shiz. Perhaps by then, he had reasoned, she would have learned to look more favourably on their encounter.

As the days had gone by it began to dawn on him that being together in Munchkinland afforded him a better opportunity to prove himself. In what capacity he did not know, but since she was the only person to fill his mind since he met her he knew only regret would follow if he gave up on her.

Still, he had expected that they would be alone much more frequently than they had been, and he seemed to spend more time away from her now they were living closer together.

Three short taps on his shoulder made him spin round in fright, but he smiled when he saw Nessarose standing before him. She bit her lip before she began to sign.

_You know she works in the kitchen a lot. _She told him simply. Fiyero was still a little jumpy from her sudden appearance, and his expression must have been blank and idiotic because she frowned and continued more slowly. _Early in the morning, she comes down to prepare breakfast. Especially on Saturdays. Which is tomorrow. _Fiyero thanked her and she returned indoors, satisfied that she might have helped her sister towards cultivating a healthy relationship with other people.

* * *

><p>'Early to bed, early to rise' was what Fiyero's nanny had written in cursive along the wall of his nursery. She said it was a proper ideal for a long and healthy life and it was the first thing he learned to sign in full. Of course, he could not remember a thing about which nanny in particular it was who had originated the saying, nor did he think she could have been the first one to invent it.<p>

Nor did it make much sense as a motto for a Prince – as far as his experience told him, Princes and Kings were the last to go to bed at night and were woken up in the morning by servants who presumably had to rise before them.

All in all it was a stupid sentence to live by, but it was particularly apt for his adventure into the Colwen Grounds' kitchen the next morning and that was all that mattered.

He noticed that his room was warm – the fire had been re-lit by someone. He did not like that much and he could not remember that it had been re-lit every morning since he arrived. Nonetheless, it told him that the chambermaids must be at work, and therefore, that Elphaba must already be in the kitchen.

He quickly dressed himself, tucking in shirt, buttoning trouser and tying knots faster than he ever had before. His hands had not moved so quickly in all his life.

In the pantry, Elphaba was moving at a decidedly slower pace.

Sluggishly, she lifted the lid of the sugar bowl and heaped a ladleful of the fine grained stuff into the silver bowl that she would set on the table. The smell of bread baking wafted in from the ovens, and she inhaled happily. From the kitchens she heard the sizzle of bacon, the pungent odour of the cold meats as she passed the cold stores, and finally the bubble of boiling water from the stoves.

It was all second-nature to her now. They often ate such a varied breakfast but these past few days it was of course in greater quantities. She took a basketful of eggs from the hen house outside, ignoring the greedy pecks for more seed, and divided them up. Some were for boiling, some for frying, and others for scrambling. She always prided herself on being able to time everything so wonderfully. Above her, she heard feet patter about. Asking the chambermaid, she had it confirmed that all the guests were wakened.

Sighing, she settled down into a armchair that sat next to long windows overlooking the garden. If it were not for the sudden interruption that caused her almost to shriek until the house fell down, she would have fallen asleep. So she supposed she could thank Fiyero for that.

But she would not.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, glaring at him with both anger and shame. "You shouldn't be in here – get out."

_Well good morning to you, too. _

She scoffed at him. "It's hardly a good morning when you start it off by scaring the other person half to death."

He nodded. _Alright, I'm sorry. But wouldn't it have been weirder if you'd turned around and I was just standing there?_

"Yes, that would have been weirder. So you should have just stayed outside –" and she pushed him towards the door "where you belong."

Fiyero was surprised at the amount of strength in her, especially considering that a moment ago she was almost sound asleep in her chair. _Oh come on. It's boring outside. _He said, easily taking her hands and redirecting their efforts before she snatched them back and ran off towards a counter where some eggs sat in white linens. _Please let me stay. _

Elphaba stopped amidst cracking a fourth egg. She turned around and adopted the most serious expression she had ever worn. "If I let you stay here, I want it to be as though I am the only person in the room. So either keep out of my way, or I will forcibly remove you."

Fiyero pondered whether or not he would like to see her try to forcibly remove him, but he nodded and promised to be good. Satisfied about as much as she could be, she relented and went back to mixing egg yolks until they were solid, setting a timer on the half dozen that had begun to boil, and nudging the fried yolks with a fish-slice.

As she moved to fetch the bread from the ovens, Fiyero followed her. When she set about cutting the loaves and arranging them on a tray, he stood by her. As soon as she eggs were cooked, each in their own way, and she scooped them, peeled them and flipped them onto different plates, he was there holding them out for her.

"Thank you." She said, not looking up at him and scooting past him so closely that the contact made her shiver a little. "Um, will you help me take them out?" She asked shyly. He nodded and took the most heavily burdened tray as his own, while she handled bread and fruit.

He placed them correctly in the centre of the long oak table that was dressed only in a satin runner and then returned with twice her speed carrying a decanter of water and the pots of tea and coffee.

She looked him over when he stood upright, staring at her as though looking for approval. _How'd I do? Not too bad? I didn't get in your way did I?_

She smiled and felt happy, for the first time in a while. "No, you didn't really. You were wonderful."

He thanked her. _So, you'll let me help tomorrow? _She coughed, surprised that he would want to do something so boring. _I promise I won't tell anyone. _He said, and she hoped he was only guessing that her father would not be pleased about his little duties, and Nessa had not put him up to this.

Setting her arms on her hips, then letting them drop again, she replied. "Yes. You can help me tomorrow."


	8. The Porch

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim. _

_So it's smack bang in the middle of my exams, but I've written ahead of myself and can post this for you guys. I had the most incredible trip to London last Sunday for Louise Dearman's album launch (ex-Glinda, London production) and it was just the most phenomenal show. Look her up if you want to discover a new voice, from someone who can actually sing. She has a delicious, melting soprano and a furiously powerful belt. That's my plug for the day. _

___This next chapter I love with all my heart and soul. I wrote it in fragments just as the different conversations came to me and it developed into this long scene. I hope you enjoy it, and as usual I would love to know what you think.  
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><p>They sat together on the porch in silence. Both were acutely aware that it was the first time they had really been alone since the day Elphaba had left Fiyero standing shocked in the library. Neither made much of the time they spent together in the mornings. Then they hardly spoke, as it became clear that the reason Elphaba wanted Fiyero out of her way was less to do with him being clumsy and more to do with the fact that she was not a morning person. So they never had any conversation.<p>

This evening was different. Once again they had spent much of the day together as a party of guests and hosts, but not many opportunities to be alone were afforded them and not many would follow.

Nessarose seemed acutely aware that they now sat together, and whether it was through chance or the deliberate actions of one or both of them, she noted that her sister was not perturbed when Fiyero spoke to her.

In fact, she seemed to seek him out. It was not something their father would have noticed, but Elphaba's face brightened when Fiyero said something to her. And it did not even have to be of any great import. They looked like they were exchanging jokes at one point.

Frexspar had pulled Elphaba back when they returned. He called her into his office and demanded that she refuse to allow the Prince into their kitchen in the mornings. Elphaba had panicked, searching frantically through her mind for any reason that might explain how he knew.

"You hardly kept it much of a secret." He had said, as though every thought were a spoken word. "Elphaba this is not an issue. Yet." He stood and leaned over his desk in that intimidating way he had. She was careful not to raise an eyebrow, not to show any sign of the sceptical attitude that was beginning to surface dangerously.

"I know, father." She said obediently.

"Elphaba I'm warning you now. Tell him to keep out in a polite manner. Make up an excuse about being understaffed. I do not want him to know that you do this for us all the time." He said. If he had hair, Elphaba knew he would have nervously run his hand through it. It was evident the thought of using her as a servant made him feel stressed and the question on her lips burned with wanting to be asked.

Why do you use me for this then? If you're so ashamed?

She longed to ask. But she did not. She agreed to keep him out, to push him off. It was hard, however, to find the words.

Elphaba much preferred his company now. It did not seem as bad as she had assumed it would be – and that kiss felt like years ago, like it had never happened. Perhaps he felt bad for it, but since she did not know, she did not like to guess. Her ease around him when they toured an old ruin of Munchkinland did nothing to make her feel calmer now, however, and she still froze a little at his touch.

As if she did not feel threatened enough by how close he was to her, now he knew things about her that made her feel panicked and angry still.

And at the same time, made her feel relieved.

"It isn't anyone's business." She said, breaking the silence.

_I know. I didn't ask. I didn't know I was coming. _

"And if you did – if you did know where you were coming and who you would see . . . would you still have come?"

He paused. _Yes. I would. _She nodded. _I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable._

"You don't."

_Okay then. _

"It's just –"

_What? _

She turned to him. "I don't tell people about Nessa for a reason. It's none of their damn business."

_I hear you. _

She smiled a little. "And it isn't my business what happened to you."

_I don't mind telling you, Elphaba. _The look on her face told him everything. _You already know?_

"Yes." She admitted, feeling guilty about it. "I'm sorry." He smiled. "Galinda Upland told me."

_Galinda Upland? _He asked, as though she had told him The Wizard of Oz was her confidante. His eyes were mirthful and his lips curved upwards so she could see his dimples.

She nodded. "Yup." He stared at her. "She's my roommate, and a Gillikin girl, so naturally she knows all about you." He looked out into the distant marshes that were laid out before them. The sun had almost completely set on his second day, and she had gone from ignoring him to sneaking around her father so she could talk to him alone. "It was good, you know, everything she told me. It's not as if I couldn't have found out myself if she hadn't."

_I know. _He seemed sad. _I've told this story a million times before, or had it repeated back to me by people I've met. Every time it's just a formality and I nod through it like it confirms everything about me, and when it's over I can be myself again. It's like that's what people think I'm all about. It's like, after all this time, after all the work we've gone to so we can have a normal life, this disease has never really left us. It's still here, even now. _

"I'm not asking you about it." She signed in silence, as though the wood of the porch would hear her. Still, she made no sound. "I've not known you for very long, but I know that it has nothing to do with who you are."

_It has _everything _to do with who I am. _He insisted, turning to her with round eyes that made her catch her breath.

"It doesn't define you, it doesn't define Nessa. My being green doesn't define me, despite what people think." She paused. "Despite what I think sometimes, too."

_But what people think is important. They're the ones who give you your definition. _

"God, you're so screwed up!" She said, speaking again with frustration. Her fingers moved quickly. "If I let everyone else, people who don't know me, who I've never spoken to, whose names I don't know – if I let them define me then I'd never know a damn thing about myself."

_It's different for me. _

She leaned over and turned him towards her, her hands on either side of his face until she was confident he would not look away. "No it's not. You are exactly the kind of person who needs a firm grasp on who they are. More so than me."

He smirked. _You've got so much confidence. _

"I do. Enough for me and my sister. Don't make me share it with you, too." She jested, raising an eyebrow.

_I won't. Okay. So, I dunno. What defines me?_ He asked, but it was not a question for her to answer. _What do you define me as?_

"Hey, what did I _just say?_" She said, glaring at him.

_Yeah, but you're not a random person. I know your name. You're a – a friend. Right? _She nodded and he nodded, too. _So, what you think of me is important and I wanna know. _

She sighed. It was a loaded question, and she was so unsure of what she thought about him. "You annoy the hell out of me." She said, honestly.

_Thank you. _

"Wait a minute." She held her hand up and he sat back a little. She was quiet and her hands were still as she thought about him. She cocked her head at him. His hair was not quite as smooth as usual; the humidity of the Munchkinland climate causing it to curl like a spring. She lost herself a little in the shape of the curls. She had never seen hair like it; it shone and fell in all the right places. It made him look like a man and boy at all the right times. Before she could stop herself she reached a hand out and touched the chocolate-coloured strands.

_Elphaba?_ He spelled her name out in shorthand, using the sign for the nickname he had developed for her.

"Ssh." She said, knowing he could understand her, and ran her fingers through his hair until her hand ended up on the back of his neck. She held it there and smiled, her eyes feeling strangely wet. "I think you're an enigma. I can't put my finger on what I think of you, all I know is that thinking of you is all I do."

_Well, how about that? _He signed. He took her hand in both of his and kissed each of her fingers. She frowned a little, and he could feel her pulse race. _You aren't going to run away from me, are you?_ She shook her head.

"Couldn't if I wanted to." She said, weakly. She caught herself looking at his lips and knew that her own had parted subconsciously. The feeling of his lips swam about her head and she knew she would feel utterly useless that night if she stopped herself from kissing him. "Kiss me." She said. He said nothing. "Kiss me, Fiyero."

He shook his head and she panicked. _Elphaba, I can't understand you. _He gave her back her hands, though she kept them resting on his. _Sign for me._

She laughed, realising. She laughed, and lost her courage. "It's nothing. I – it's nothing." Her breathing came in rapid bursts and her palms began to sweat. She pulled her hands out of his grasp and self-consciously touched her hair and her neck, avoiding his face. "We should uh – well I should go." It annoyed her that even in sign language she could not avoid betraying her uncertainties. It must have made her almost completely impossible to understand.

_Go? _

Obviously not _completely _impossible, she thought. "It's late . . . it's cold." He smirked. "It's um . . . it's really not good for me – for us to be out this late." She stood and tip-toed to the doors. He watched her and frowned. She was so strange sometimes.

_I'm staying. _He replied when she told him to come inside. _It's not that cold, and I don't mind if my dad is a little upset because I might get a cough from the climate. _Her face fell as he chuckled at her, and she shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. _I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. _

"It's fine." She said, and walked inside. She had barely reached the couch when she felt his hand on her arm. "Fiyero, just stay. You don't have to do anything. I'm just going in."

_I didn't mean to say that. I was joking. _He told her, not smiling anymore.

"Oh?" He nodded. "For your information I have always tried to stay on my father's good side." She took an angry breath.

_Elphaba I –_

"I don't appreciate you making assumptions about me or my father, or my sister. You have no idea what it's like for me here. You – you just come in and think you can just brighten up my day with a joke or a smile or a drink or a few words on the porch but it's just not that simple." She hissed. He kept his hands at his sides, limp. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed. If he did not know her better he would have thought she was crying. There were no tears, but he still regretted the turn their evening seemed to have taken.

_I'm sorry. _He said, bleakly, unsure if it would help or make her worse.

Elphaba shook her head, although she had no idea what that was supposed to mean. She hardly knew what she was saying. He just made her feel so frustrated. "I don't know why, but you can really get on my nerves sometimes." She rested a hand on her hip and watched his face break in to a small grin.

_Ditto._

She chuckled, and ran her hands through her hair. "I shouldn't have gotten mad. That was stupid."

_Why'd you get mad? _He asked. It was a simple enough question, but she did not respond. _I liked sitting out there with you. _He said, drawing out a smile from her.

"Me too."

_We could do it again tomorrow, if you like? It seems it's the only time we get to be alone. _

She smirked. "You want time alone?"

He took her hand. _I want time alone with _you. _Haven't I always? You're the one who's always busy or running away._

"Hey! I have a household to run."

_Excuse. _He said, and she punched him good-naturedly in the arm. They began to walk up the winding staircase to their rooms, and Fiyero kept a firm hold of her hand because the way was so dimly lit. Elphaba had a warm feeling that he would have done so even if the halls were lit with the morning sun. They did not talk; it was difficult in so little light, and it seemed superfluous anyway. They would have parted ways upon reaching the landing, but they did not. Elphaba told herself that Fiyero would never find the way to his own room alone. Hers was in the opposite direction, she should have turned right, but she kept holding on to him.

She jumped and almost cried out when she heard footsteps coming down the hall towards them and shook Fiyero's arm until he rushed them into his room.

_What's wrong? _He asked, panicked and red-cheeked as he watched her climb into his wardrobe. He ran over to her. _What the hell are you doing? _She spun him round to face the door and shut the closet behind him. Fiyero only then saw his bedroom door handle turn and his mother come in. He sighed angrily.

"Oh I'm sorry, son. I didn't think you were in yet. I had come for my book . . ."

_Of course. _He realised, and took it from his bedside drawer and placed it in her hands. _Just, you know, slip a note next time or something. I might have been undressing!_

"Oh Fiyero. I changed your nappies for goodness' sake."

_Yes, but I change my own nappies now, so let's be considerate. _

She laughed as she left and he waited half a minute before locking the door. He cursed his deafness then, wishing he could listen out for Elphaba's frightened breaths in the closet. He opened the doors and beckoned for her to come out. _You know, she wouldn't have found it totally ridiculous that you were walking me to my room. _

"Yeah, well I didn't want to risk it." She told him, smoothing out her dress. They stood close. A fire had been built in the hearth, and because it was the only light it cast a warm glow on every surface. The bed sheets were golden and the floor was a rusty mahogany. His hair was shining again. "I should really go."

_Yeah. _

"I'll see you in the morning."

_Yeah. Thanks for showing me up. _

"No problem." She said. "Okay well . . . goodnight."

_Goodnight. See you in the morning. _

"Sure. I'll see you then."

_Yeah, in the breakfast room. _

"Yeah. Next to the uh – porch."

_Right, of course._

For a moment it was so silent that Elphaba had a chance to understand how quiet his and her sister's world was. There was no sound of any kind, not even the creaking of the wood in their old house, or the usually incessant alarm of the insects outside. Awkwardly, she turned and left the room, making her way robotically to her room. Down the hall, turned a corner, took a right turn again and finally reached her door. She pressed an ear to Nessa's wall for a second and heard nothing. She would have been asleep by now. Prayers, then bed. That was always her way.

When she locked her door she catapulted herself onto her mattress and landed like she used to when she hijacked her neighbour's bouncing apparatus. She smiled cheekily at the memory of stealing into their garden with Nessarose when they were not at home and getting caught when they returned unexpectedly. Of course, Frex always forgave his youngest.

Frexspar Thropp. She would go mad if she counted the number of times she had been blamed unnecessarily for things that would have gone unnoticed or even praised had Nessa done them. It was lucky she loved the girl so much and she could see why their father did. But could he not at least _try _to forgive her? He did not blame Nessarose for being born deaf, so why did he blame her for being born green? The answer always came to her: Frex could easily explain her sister's disability. But Elphaba's was a mystery and he refused to see it as anything but an aberration.

It was not all bad. He hardly mistreated her, or hit her. He never unjustly punished her with confinement to her room or a cellar and though she felt she was made too responsible for Nessarose, both Elphaba and Frex knew she would have cared for her younger sister without any solicitation from him.

Her thoughts inevitably lead back to the morning. It was fights such as that one that made her blood boil. He was happy to leave her alone, to pay for her university course, to buy her clothes, to feed and house her and educate her as long as she loved happily within the boundaries he set. It was clear he felt embarrassed that she had a friend. Especially a male friend. Especially a Prince.

She giggled imagining how mad he would be if he knew just how friendly she and Fiyero had been. She felt ashamed of the reason why she had fled from him in the library. She felt ashamed that she had allowed her father to infiltrate her mind to the extent that even when he was thousands of miles away she could not shake him off.

She thought about Fiyero. He did not make her feel ashamed. When she was with him, when she let herself be with him, her self-consciousness melted away. It just did not matter.

Elphaba found herself at his door again not long after. It was useless to knock, so she peered into the room and saw him sitting on the edge of his bed in only trousers. She shut the door behind her carefully and sat in the empty space next to him.

_Elphaba? _He asked, as though he was not sure she was really there.

"Are you busy?"

He stole a glance at his hands, though they were empty. _No. Course not. _He said. He took her hand and smiled. _You know I was just thinking about you. _He told her.

"Yeah?" She began to play with his fingers, weaving her own in and out, and feeling the happy reciprocation that came with touch. "I was thinking about you."

_I figured. _

She shrugged. "My father doesn't want you to help me in the morning anymore. He says it isn't appropriate to your station."

_Those are his words. _He said. His eyes captured hers, but she was distracted by the blue inked designs on his chest. _Tattoos. _He said. _Every Vinkun Royal gets them. Every House has its own design. _

"Like an emblem." She said.

_Yes. _

"What does yours mean?" She asked. Tentatively, she touched the soft skin of his chest, breathing a little faster as her fingers followed the lines.

_I don't remember. _He said, after a while. She lifted her hand and pressed it against the skin above his heart. Its beat was strong, and fast. She bit her lip. She slid her palm up onto his shoulder. He has muscles; he obviously exercised beyond playing games in the muddy grounds of Shiz.

Elphaba lost the power of her speech just as she wanted to say something. She could not remember if her hand had been the one to pull him closer, or if he had moved. They kissed with the same strength of feeling as they had in the library, but this time Elphaba did not run away.


	9. The Morning After

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim. _

_Oh glory be - oh happy day: I have finished my exams! Whilst hoping I have passed with high enough grades to move on to my penultimate year of university, I realised that this sudden stretch of free time before me means I can update this with all the haste of a rabbit in Wonderland. So, here you are, and expect more very soon. Possibly every two days or even more so.  
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_Also, you lot have been either oddly silent, or there are only about three people reading this. I'm thinking you'll become a lot more vocal come chapters 11 and 12. At least I hope you will.  
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_Enjoy!  
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><p>Elphaba began to wake with that sense of something important having happened to her. She was too warm for a start, but being still in that moment between sleeping and waking, she could not rationalise why she should be. She stretched out her toes and sighed when a new sensation of satisfaction arose from inside her. Quickly, however, it was followed by a dull ache. A dull ache between her legs.<p>

As her faculties returned to her, she became aware that she was naked in her sheets and immediately felt exposed and vulnerable and confused. Why should she have taken off her nightgown? She felt exhausted and the desire to move from her tangled but comfy position on the bed could not have been in greater opposition to her.

That dull ache was still there. She squeezed her legs together and felt a surge of something powerful and good from deep in her stomach. She was not a stranger to that feeling and she knew what it was from, and suddenly her mind went blank. She was neither glad nor ashamed.

Feeling Fiyero's arm tighten around her waist made her jump, and then relax involuntarily, as her body seemed to want to respond to his invitation to lie closer to him. Strangely, she did not feel exposed anymore. She could tell that he was naked, too. She remembered that he must be naked.

Lying down again, she closed her eyes to the memory of his fingers dancing over her body. She remembered whispering his name, and wondered if he had even known what she had been saying. The light in his room must have made her look even more alien than she already did, but he still held her close. It had hurt, she knew that, but now it was not as sharp a pain.

Elphaba wondered if she loved him. She wondered if it was just lust. She wondered if it were even possible, or realistic, or if it meant they were going too fast, but since she had never lived her life by other people's standards she wondered why it seemed to matter now. It only mattered what _he _thought.

Even if it were just sex, it was pretty good sex. Although she had no frame of reference.

But the way he had touched her made her think it was more than that. She did not know what to think.

Smiling, she felt him kiss the back of her neck and she turned around to face him. It all seemed to come so naturally to them; he manoeuvred easily until he was on top and his hands lifted her up from the bed. She could not remember now if she had been too hot or too cold. Was there ever anything but the feeling of his body?

Her eyes watered when she heard him moan, and remembered that he had done so the night before, too. She kissed his cheek and held his neck in her hands. "I don't know what to say now." She said, making him smile.

He shifted himself next to her and as he began to reply, she stopped him, preferring to stare with girlish glee at the patterns on his chest. He laughed as she traced the diamond shapes, and further down until the modesty of the sheet prevented her from seeing more. _Hadn't you had enough fun with them last night?_

Her head snapped up, and then she saw flashes of her actions: the dim light obscured much of the detail, but she had kissed each and every one as he lay underneath her. "I couldn't see properly." She insisted, and he let her etch out the tiny flecks of ink that she had missed with her fingers.

Eventually, she felt his lips on her head and she looked up. He pointed his head in the direction of the wind-up clock on the table. _Won't we have to be up soon? _

"That's a horrible thing to say. Not right now, just . . . lie here for a while." She told him, resting her head next to his shoulder. "You're so beautiful."

_Beauty loves beauty. _He told her, and she stopped, at a loss as to how to respond. But he bent his head and captured her lips so she could say what she wanted in a kiss instead.

Fiyero had woken earlier than her. He was warm, too, but like his bed mate abandoned all thoughts of cooling himself when he realised he had slept with a girl who had only recently started talking to him again. Reluctantly hoping that she would not immediately wake and beat him to a small pulp, he touched her bare arm as it lay over the white sheets and planted three kissed on her shoulder. Happily, she squirmed in closer to him. In her sleep no less. He made the assumption that whether or not she was consciously aware of it, her mind and her body were glad to be in bed with him.

There were a lot of things Fiyero felt he should say, reassurances he should make. But as he watched her and his eyelids fell, she was just so peaceful. He did not have the heart to disturb her, and since it was the happiest he had ever felt in his whole life, he decided to savour the moment. He kissed her head and rested his lips among the thick tundra of her tangled black hair.

Unfairly, what was half an hour felt more like thirty seconds to them. It was not long before Elphaba began to clamour unhappily from her position. As she rose she tried to pull the undersheet with her, but it was wedged in somehow and she got stuck. She questioned how bothered she felt that he would see her bare back. The broad daylight made her feel less courageous than she had been the night before.

Fiyero tapped her shoulder and she craned her neck round, eyebrow raised in curiosity. _Elphaba, I've seen you naked. _He reminded her. She shivered visibly when his finger fell down over her chest and pulled away the sheet with it. Inevitably, she ended up against the pillows with his lips on her chest.

"You are the worst kind of distraction." She said, when he sat up to kiss her lips. "And the most imaginative."

He laughed. She tensed when he looked her over. _You don't have to feel self-conscious around me. _She looked at him for a half second and then down again. _I happen to love how you look. _

"Stop!" She laughed when he started again. "If you carry on we'll be at lunch before we get downstairs."

_My bad. _He said unapologetically. She rolled her eyes and found her dress, throwing it on without undergarments.

"I'm going to get dressed . . . um . . ." She scratched her head, unsure of where to look but thankful that he did not stand up fully naked in front of her. She had a feeling she was not quite ready for that. Although a quiet part of her wanted him to just push away the sheets. "Will you come down soon?" She asked.

_Of course I will. _He promised, and, to save him from getting him up, she crossed the room again and gave him a sweet kiss, letting her hand stay on his face for a moment before she went to the door again, picking up pieces of clothing as she left.

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><p>Cooking that morning was the most fun Elphaba had ever had in the kitchen. At one point, it descended into a flour-throwing match. Odd considering none of the recipes required that ingredient. As far as she could remember, Fiyero had simply walked out of the pantry, bag in hand, and started flicking little white clouds of dust at her. She could have gotten mad at the distraction and the mess, but when he took her into his arms and licked a dot of flour from the tip of her nose she suddenly forgot about it. How strange.<p>

They did not quite succeed in removing every patch of flour from their clothes, however, and Elphaba was hard-pressed to explain what had happened without incriminating them both. But Fiyero dismissed the discussion, claiming he had simply come down for breakfast earlier than usual and startled Elphaba, who had been conveniently carrying a bag of loose flour at the time. He apologised, and Elphaba blushed.

"Well not regarding my son almost ruining breakfast, this really has been a superb visit. I feel we have much to thank you for, Governor, as well as your wonderful daughters." Elphaba loved listening to the Queen: her voice was gentle and she spoke as though everything she said came as a surprise to her. Her signing, well developed and echoing the gracefulness which Elphaba had observed in her movement, seemed to mirror the happiness in her voice. She imagined Nessarose would come to the same conclusion as she had about the type of woman the Queen had turned out to be. It was almost impossible to consider that she had suffered such a great loss as they all knew she had.

But her words at the breakfast table that morning were also tinged with a sadness of sorts; Elphaba and Nessarose and Fiyero all knew the kind of speech she was making well enough. It was goodbye, at least for the time being. "I have never been quite so sad to leave a place. Everything here is quite breathtaking." The King said, laughing in that bellowing manner that typified his speech. Nessarose had made her sister cackle with glee when she drew a picture of Minas on his throne, all trussed up in furs and shouting commands that could be heard throughout Oz. She claimed he would have made a better Wizard. "Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and we must get to the Vinkus before Fiyero's semester starts."

"You're going all the way back to the Vinkus and then back again?" Elphaba exclaimed before her manners would allow her to stop herself. She received a glare from her father in return. "Sorry." She said, though she was far from it.

The Queen waved her apology away. "Oh my dear you're quite right. It is silly, but our youngest daughter would be loathe to be without her older brother for another week or two before he leaves for so long." Elphaba nodded, not wishing to contend with them on that point. "We shall be leaving tomorrow morning, I do not wish to miss another breakfast. You simply must tell us where you got your cook!"

"Yes father. Do tell them about the cook." Elphaba prompted, not daring even to lift her eyes, though she stole a glance at Fiyero, who smirked and nudged her foot with his own. Nessa tactfully changed the subject, however, and Elphaba never got her satisfaction. She knew she would pay for her cheek though. One way or another.

As it was their final full day, and no one particularly wanted to visit the markets until the next morning, the hosts and their guests took a walk along a part of the lands through which they had not yet travelled. Fiyero would have made the argument that they should stay in, if it had not been so likely to draw attention to his desire to be alone with Elphaba.

"Oh come on, your majesty. It's such a beautiful walk." She admonished him before his mother and father. With a twinkle in her eye she convinced him what a good idea it was and before they had been out long, the two hung back easily.

_Can't I take your hand? _He asked when she stepped away from him as he tried to touch her.

"Don't be an idiot." She said. "We might be walking more slowly than they are but it doesn't make them blind."

He nodded. _No, you're right. You are. _

He looked disappointed, and she felt bad. "If we were alone, or better concealed, I would take your hand, Fiyero." She said.

_I know. _He replied, pecking her cheek quickly before anyone could notice. _You know I think your sister knows about us. I mean I think she suspects more than she already knows. She keep smiling at me and then at you and then back again. _

Elphaba thought for a moment. "She wouldn't tell a soul."

_She reminds me of my sister. _

"Mmm, you've said." She teased, smiling. "This arrangement doesn't really give us much time alone does it?" She commented, pointing at the party who were only a few hundred yards ahead of them. "I feel like . . . there's more to say but we can't say it."

They walked in silence over a bridge that hugged a yellow-golden field and brought them out onto a knoll, dead for now, but with the promise of bounty to come. _Then let's not say anything. It's enough for me just to be with you. Elphaba. Pretending I'm holding your hand. _

It took all of her strength not to give in to him then.

They were out for most of the day. Elphaba and Fiyero hardly spoke, but it was in many respects the greatest afternoon they had together especially considering it was the first afternoon for the duration of which they did not argue or ignore each other. Nessarose was exhausted though, and by the end of the turn about, she was leaning on her sister's shoulder for support.

Elphaba took her upstairs when they returned and tucked her easily into bed. She suspected Nessa fell asleep even before she reached the landing. When she walked into the drawing-room, she saw Fiyero sitting out on the porch. As she wondered how bad it would look if she simply walked out to greet him, the Queen addressed her.

"Darling." She began, handing her two glasses of white Munchkinland wine. "A glass for you, and do take this one out to my son. He must be out of favour with our conversation. I'm afraid it has taken a turn for the political!"

Elphaba almost disinclined to sit outside when she heard what they were discussing, but she simply sighed and made her way to the Prince. "And here I thought you had sectioned yourself off so we could be alone." She said when she sat next to him. "But I think it has more to do with your parents talking government."

_Well I apologise if I don't want to spend my last evening that way. _He said sarcastically, clearly lacking in any kind of regret about his decision.

"You're fortunate in that you get to hear about it whenever you want. I'm lucky if politics is even mentioned in my presence. I would _love _to hear about another country's governance."

_If you're good maybe someday I'll tell you. _

She laughed. "I think you'd tell me if I asked in the right way."

_I'm intrigued now. Exactly what would you be willing to do to learn the personal opinions of the Vinkun Royals? _He asked, eyebrows raised and a hand touching eagerly at her hemline.

"I've half a mind to slap you for that." She half-threatened. "But I won't, because I'm hoping you'll let me stay in your room again tonight." She said, sipping her wine shyly.

_Really?_ He asked, as though she had said she wished she could fly.

"Yes." She reiterated.

_Of course. _He replied, faster than she could take another breath.

"Well good then." She said, relieved that she did not have to flirt.

He nodded. _I was thinking about this earlier, when – in the morning. And I would've said something but I didn't want to ruin the walk, like you said. In case you didn't agree. Anyway we weren't alone. _Elphaba laughed and bit her lip. It was still quite strange for them to talk about it. _I was thinking that there's a lot we should probably talk about. There's a lot I want you to know, so you don't think anything bad about me. _She made to talk, but he held her hand tight in his, and she quieted. _I just want you to know, straight off, that being with you . . . it's the happiest I've ever felt. Ever. I mean I know I'm a prince and all, but really that doesn't mean anything. I know you know what I'm saying when I tell you I've had a hard life, and a lot of it still makes me sad. _He took a breath. _But ever since I met you, and whenever you're even just in the room . . . you know that phrase people use um . . . she can light up a room? _Elphaba smiled and nodded. _Well that's what you do, for me. And before we do anything else, I want you to know how much I care about you, Fae. _

"Fae . . ." she copied him, letting her hand catch on his cheek for a moment. "Fiyero . . . I don't know what to say."

_I'm sorry – it wasn't very eloquent._

"It was beautiful." She said. "I don't know how I can put – how I can word it . . . I guess . . . ditto?" She tried, making him laugh. "No, I mean it!" She said, failing to hold back her own laughter. "I don't think I need to say anything else, do I?"

_I don't think you do, sweetheart. _Elphaba blinked at the pet name.

"Oz, Fiyero."

_What is it?_

"You always say something . . . that makes me . . . speechless." She finished eventually.

Fiyero pointed to his left, where their respective families stood, led in conversation by Nessarose, whom Elphaba would thank later. Her sister had a knack for tactfulness. _If they weren't at risk of turning any second, I'd be kissing you right now. _She stared at him. _And don't look at me like that!_

"Like what?" She asked, feigning innocence. "I'm sorry; I just seem to have completely lost all resistance to you."


	10. The Last Day

_**Author's Note: **I disclaim._

_Ah the calm before the storm . . . enjoy!_

* * *

><p>They lay next to one another, a fine sheen of sweat settling on their brows, their chests rising and falling rapidly as they recovered. Small but sincere smiles appeared on their faces. Fiyero lifted his arm and she rested her head in the crook of it.<p>

She signed his name, fearing to speak in case his parents two rooms over could hear. She almost laughed at the absurdity of her worry; they surely would have been more likely to hear the noise of their most recent and vigorous activity. They were very _very _quiet, all things considered.

Fiyero placed a wet kiss on her lips. _I'll miss you. _He said simply, with the fluid motion of one, tired hand. Nodding, she linked his hand with her own, the darkness in the room disguising the greenness of her skin, at least for one who wished not to see it.

"I'm scared for you to leave." She said reluctantly, after they had dozed. Fiyero pulled the duvet around them. Elphaba shivered happily in its warmth and they tucked it around the small island their bodies made, huddled together. "Parting is so . . ." She couldn't find the words, and she began to shake.

_Don't cry. _Fiyero kissed her face, but Elphaba laughed even as he turned to hold her more closely.

"I'm not crying." She insisted, feigning a smile. She held his face and sniffed, and his expression told her he did not believe her. "I never cry." She said.

_Never?_ She shook her head and thought for a moment, scrutinising his face as though he were underneath a microscope and she were a scientist.

"I don't think I even cried when my mother died." She admitted. Laughing sardonically, she faced him. "I never even got a chance to grieve for her. Maybe I would have cried. There just didn't seem much time for tears. There was so much to do and I didn't have time to think of anyone but Nessarose. I used to run around, I used to do so much. After Nessa was born I just stopped."

_You just stopped? _Fiyero asked.

"I didn't resent her for it. You know, it's not an understatement when people talk about Nessa's beauty." She signed for him and the only sounds were those of the rustling of the sheets. "She was like that from day one. You could hardly take your eyes from her."

_You love her a lot, don't you? _She nodded. _I know how you feel; I'd do anything for my sister. She could probably get away with murder._ He joked.

"I'm very proud of Nessarose. She hasn't grown up resentful or cruel, not like her big sister."

_You aren't cruel!_

"Oh I know not in that sense, but my father thinks I can be ungrateful."

_I've seen the way he is with you; please tell me you don't take him seriously?_

"I really shouldn't should I?" She said. "But the thing is . . . he's my father, and he's the only one I'll ever have. I can't help but love him, even if he never really loves me back."

This seemed to upset Fiyero more than it ever had Elphaba. He leaned back on his arms and frowned. If he could speak, she knew he would be muttering away to himself. She tried to reassure him, but she had the feeling that Frexspar's behaviour spoke louder than her words.

Fiyero touched her face, drawing his finger down from her eyes to her lips. The indecency of her father's attitude to his eldest daughter was the most frustrating thing Fiyero had encountered to date. She was so sharp, quick and beautiful. She was such a treasure, and it felt as though Frexspar was trying to tie her down, to hide her away, to deny that she was his.

_You know, I was gonna wait to give you this but since I don't know when your birthday is and I . . . well I'd like you to have something to remember this trip by. _

She blinked. "Fiyero I don't need anything to remember this by, I'll remember you all on my own." She promised.

He sat her back on the pillows and gave her a kiss. _I know, but I bought you this and you should have it. So wait there for a second. _

She did as she was told and watched him climb silently from their bed, all the while wondering what in Oz he had bought. She hoped it was not alive. As he rifled through a suitcase and some bags, she took a great amount of pleasure in the fact that he was utterly nude. Elphaba bit her lip, wishing he was a little closer.

_Here! _He signed, turning round like a puppy when you called it for a treat or something. She giggled. _Here, happy . . . um . . . _

"Anniversary?" She suggested.

He looked confused._ Anniversary? Of what?_

She licked her lips, thinking. "The first time we had sex?"

_Ha. Oh, you genius. _He thrust the package into her arms and scooted in next to her. She looked up at him for a second, before carefully untying what was already beautiful wrapping paper. The gift it revealed was the scarf she had wanted but could not afford, the first day they went to the markets. _Do you like it? _He asked, tentatively.

She held it out and shook it from its folded form. Even in the dim moonlight, the colours seemed to bounce around the room. Or maybe that was just her fancy. She pressed the cloth to her chest. "It's perfect." She told him, wrapping her arms around his neck. As they moved, the silk scarf fell from between their bodies until they were skin-to-skin once more. "Thank you. It's the best gift I've ever had."

_Oh, no it can't be. _He insisted.

But she nodded enthusiastically. "No it really is. I mean father never really gets me anything that isn't practical. At Lurlinemas he'll usually get me a book on religion, which I read but not for the education it might give me. And dear Nessa only gets a small allowance, so her gifts are usually clothing she's made. Father doesn't like to see her buying me pretty things. I guess I'm not usually a fan of them."

_But this time? _

She kissed him. "I love this." She said, grinning so hard it was beginning to hurt. Fiyero lay her down next to him and wrapped the scarf around them both. Soon, they were fast asleep.

* * *

><p>"Nessa you are turning into a regular little liar." Elphaba quipped when they were safely in the carriage and out of earshot of their father.<p>

_Only when encouraged by my elders. It's not my fault I'm just a product of a bad environment. _She said, red-cheeked with pride.

_I thought you carried it off with a superior kind of tact. _Fiyero told her. _For a second I thought we wouldn't get to be alone. _

"Oh dear Nessa has always been able to manipulate those around her – not perhaps consciously," she hastily added before her sister could object to the term. "But people are predisposed to want to do things for you precisely because you are so innocent and sweet. And with me it is the exact opposite." Her companions laughed, having learned to recognise when she was making a joke. "Maybe it wouldn't work quite so well if I weren't constantly standing next to you as a reminder?"

_Oh Elphaba. I hope you don't mean that. _Elphaba wrinkled her nose at her sister. _It is nice to be alone, though. Sometimes I wonder if father will ever let me be more than his little girl. It's gotten tiresome lately. _She said, her fine features crumpled up into a scornful expression.

_You'll always be the youngest, Nessarose. _Fiyero said. _My little sister will be an adult one day, I know, but it changes nothing about how protective I feel over her. _

That did not placate Nessa, but Elphaba thought it was good for her. "I hate to say it, but you are soaking up all the extra love and affection father doesn't give to me."

_I don't mean to be ungrateful! _She insisted.

"Neither do I – but that doesn't seem to matter to father." Elphaba reminded her. "Nessa if you ever wanted to leave home, you know you can, don't you?"

_Of course but I don't think I really want to leave Munchkinland. _

"I meant leave Colwen Grounds." Elphaba said. "You'll be fine. Just try and leave some of father for me." She winked at Nessa, who had thought she was being serious, and made her laugh.

In no time at all they were stopped at the gate that used to mark the entrance to the town centre when Munchkinland was first founded. Fiyero made a scene of helping them from the carriage, earning him the admiration of Nessarose and a sarcastic smirk from Elphaba. The place was mad with traders and their goods and it gave Elphaba a chance to appreciate that they could communicate easily over the din.

"_Watch!" _Elphaba screamed, wrenching Nessarose back painfully from the street, where a viciously out-of-control pony and cart missed her by a hair's breadth. Panic-stricken, She clutched Nessa to her chest, panting heavily and as near to tears as she ever thought she could be. "Nessa for Oz' sake!" She raged, holding the girl back towards the safety of the pavement. Fiyero stood behind Elphaba, holding her shoulder and noticing how upset they both were. "Please _please _don't ever do that again! Nessa!" She yelled, kissing the girl's hair and holding her again.

_I'm sorry Elphaba! I didn't do it on purpose! _Nessa insisted, shoving her sister away.

"Nessarose Thropp you could have been killed! For Oz' sake I'm just trying to stop something from happening to you."

But Nessarose's face still fell. She stood awkwardly and shuffled her feet. _Can I go to the grocer's market please? _She asked.

Elphaba tried to catch her eyes and looked for a moment at Fiyero who nodded his head. "Of course." Nessarose turned and walked inside, away from the road. When had left, Elphaba felt Fiyero hands on her back. "I wasn't harsh, was I? I'm sorry I just got a fright."

He understood, rubbing her back comfortingly. He saw her blush when he leaned in and gave her a kiss. _Of course you did, sweetheart. It's alright, she must have just had a fright, too. She'll get over it. Just let her alone. You know it runs in your family. _He pointed out, and she rolled her eyes at his reference to her.

"What did you call me?" She asked, when they – carefully – walked across the road to the centre square, close enough to be holding hands.

_Sweetheart? You don't like it?_

"No I do." She replied, telling herself to relax. "You used it the other day, too."

_I remember. _

"Should I have one for you? Does that make me a bad person?" She jested, elbowing him in the ribs.

Fiyero laughed. _Well I dunno. If you had a name for me what would it be? _

"So . . . Fiyero's out?" She wondered aloud, nervous now that she actually had to be creative. He confirmed she was not allowed to use his given name. "Um, you know I really think this is more of a girlfriend task."

_Don't be frightened. _He teased, pinching her where she was ticklish.

"I am not!" She insisted, turning on him with what she hoped was detectable jesting in her anger. She was worried a little that the only pet name she could think of at the time was 'my love' and since she did not feel like saying it to him (yet) it was hardly appropriate to use that one. "I can't think of anything."

_My parents call me –_

"No! I will absolutely not use a name your parents use. It just weirds me out." He laughed happily and offered up a bunch of what Elphaba termed ridiculous names. "Look, if I ever come up with one, it will be spontaneous and sprung from some special moment that will mean a lot to us therefore giving it meaning that some random name would not have if we just try and think of one now."

_You're just buying time. _He said.

"Maybe, but don't you think I've come up with such a good excuse?" She asked enthusiastically.

_It is very convincing. _He admitted.

"You see." She said proudly.

_I don't really care about a nickname, Elphaba. Although you're right, it is a girlfriend task. _He told her when they had enough of wandering and settled in a café. She had picked it out for the vivid mosaics that covered the walls, the ceiling, the floors and the tables and chairs; the vibrancy reminded her of him, his tattoos, the scarf he bought her which was now draped over her shoulders, and his unrepentant enthusiasm.

"Well there you go. I'm not your girlfriend." She said, even as he pulled out a chair for her and then pushed it in again.

_Do you want to be?_

Elphaba choked on her own tongue. "Excuse me?"

_Do you want to be my girlfriend? _

"Fiyero –"

_Alright. Don't answer unless it's in the positive. I just want it observed that _I _want you to be my girlfriend._

Elphaba smiled, though not at him. "Very sweet." She said, wishing she could articulate her feelings more, and hoping they would just as soon make themselves known to her.

_Before I go, which I must do very soon, _he said, and they glanced up at town clock which their table sat opposite and read that it was time they found Nessa and got back. _I want to know what you want to do when we return to Shiz. _

It was a subject she had not wanted to broach. "I don't know Fiyero. I'm not the kind of demonstrably affectionate person –"

_I don't expect you to be sweetheart. I just want you to tell me if for instance I'm allowed to walk with you to lectures. To tutorials? Am I allowed to have coffee with you? _

Elphaba blushed. "We don't have the same classes, Fiyero, but I'd like to be alone with you like we used to. In the library, if you don't mind. And . . . well this is nice. We could have coffee, too. Dinner, you know. I wish I had the courage to be your girlfriend . . ."

It made him laugh that she could not look at him while she spoke._ I'll pick you up at the station? Or is that too demonstrably affectionate? _

Elphaba laughed. "No, it's just right. I'll look for you."

They spent no more time at the café, or in the square. Nessa found them only a few moments later, having worked up the courage to apologise for being mad at her sister. Elphaba kissed her, and took her hand as they walked through the crowds.

_May we come back once we've said goodbye? I want to buy a dress I saw across the way there. _Elphaba followed her gaze to the dressers and seamstresses and raised her brow. _Please? _

"How could I ever deny you, my dear?" Elphaba responded, and was rewarded with a satisfied beaming grin from her sister. "I'll warn you though, I won't be in a good mood." She felt Fiyero's hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, not letting her fears of her father ruin her last few minutes with Fiyero Tiggular.


	11. The Missing Person

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim._

_Taking this opportunity to wish **vinkunwildflowerqueen **a happy birthday and to welcome you all to the beginning of the end!  
><em>

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Galinda Upland stepped off the train onto the platform of Shiz Town. Breathing in a lungful of air, she beamed happily at the porters who would cart her suitcases to her and Elphie's room. She had pictured the moment for the whole train journey, and it was just as perfect as in her mind, excluding the racking cough she had when, with the oxygen, she inhaled a ton of grey smoke, too. Elphie would have laughed at her.<p>

"Oh no, _Elphaba." _She corrected herself. Shaking off her error, she thanked the young gentlemen who seemed just as usually pleased at having been given the task of helping a beautiful young woman, and strode confidently under the station arches towards the University.

Galinda had a wonderfully pleasant break. She spent it with family and good friends. She had rich food and calm walks through her parent's land. She was given the most stunning gifts, the most thrillifying parties and she felt utterly refreshed and raring to go. As she walked past the sights that were becoming more familiar to her and growing on her as the buildings in her home town did, she delighted in the click of her new heels and the sheer softness of her skirts. Her mother had curled her hair into perfect ringlets. Her nanny had laundered all her sheets and dresses with her favourite scented soap. Life was beautiful.

It was cold, and the air that morning was crisp and even biting when the wind blew. Galinda shivered a little and held her furs closer to her chest. She looked forward immensely to cosying up in her nightgown with a hot herbal tea from the Upper Uplands that her father had packed for her. He always made her a hot cup when she was at home.

In truth, she had missed Elphaba's rational, logical company. She missed her dry sarcasm and quick wit. She had wiled away much of her holiday drawing up plans for her new friends new wardrobe, disregarding the fear that the green girl would probably take some convincing to agree to be made over.

"Oh well." She said to herself, happily arguing with herself and imaginary Elphaba and coming to the conclusion that she would inevitably win.

She had to restrain herself from squealing when she spied a friendly face across the quad. Alas, it was not her Elphie, but a good friend nonetheless. "Shenshen." She greeted her warmly, kissed each cheek once and smiled, tossing her curls over her shoulder. "How do you do?"

"How do you do, my dear?" Shenshen inquired politely. "How was your break? You look wonderful. I am _envious _of your outfit." She lightly touched her friend's skirt.

"Oh _thank you_. It was my very own purchase! I saw the fabric and I just knew, you know?"

"Of course!"

"Indeed!" Shenshen giggled. "Well I was so enamoured of your fall ensemble; I think the whole school must have been watching you when you wore that. I was reading _Ozian _you know, and they made a point about the importance of economising outfits. I sincerely think you should consider wearing it again. More than twice at least!"

Shenshen beamed, and they walked across the quad towards their rooms together. Galinda was able to hold her head high, as Shenshen roomed in a dormitory. But she chastised herself; Elphaba would never approve of her thinking that way. Nevertheless, she held her head high. "I read the same article! I did bring the outfit, although it would have to wait until warmer weather I think."

They conversed in this manner all the way to Shenshen's door. Their conversation was not much more intimate or constructive than advice as to the most appropriate footwear for such a cold winter, or the most socially acceptable manner in which to ease an awkward conversation. They parted happily, kissed one another again and Galinda returned to her room alone, but much the better for having met a friend. Now at least, she would not feel the need to force an unwanted conversation on Elphaba.

When she reached her door and it clicked shut softly, a glad sigh of relief escaped her. "Good to be home." She said aloud, as though addressing the objects in the room. Laughing, she curtseyed to the chairs and bowed to the tables. "Did you miss me?" She asked them, and smiled as though they had responded that they did.

Swiftly dancing through to the bedroom, she saw that her cases had been emptied and removed, her garments placed neatly on her bed for her to place where she would, her shoes hung in their racks, and her sheets already arranged over her duvet and mattress and pillows.

Whistling, she set to her work.

The next morning, Galinda woke to a rude and loud bang on the door. For a moment, she could not grasp her faculties well enough to realise what was happening. She remained in that strange state between sleeping and waking for a few minutes, before the constant and incessant noise forced her to confront the intrusion.

"ALRIGHT!" She yelled, assuming it was Elphaba. "If you would remember your damn keys." She moaned, kicking off her duvet and stumbling across the floor like a drunken fool to her dressing gown. She shoved it on roughly and jumped at the sound of another loud rap. "Elphie, I hear you!"

But the rapping did not stop.

"For goodness' sake!"

Dashing to the door at a speed she thought she was never capable of, especially before nine o'clock in the morning. She unlocked the door and swung it angrily open, walking away immediately, fully intending to go back to her bed. "How could you have lost your keys you wicked thing?" She yelled. "Whoa!"

All of a sudden, she was held fast to the spot on which she stood and spun round by a pair of unusually strong hands, until she was face to face with Prince Fiyero Tiggular. "Oh, sorry." She said, forgetting herself. Realising he would not have understood her, she shook out her hands and signed. "Sorry. Didn't know it was you." She hoped very much what she was saying reflected her intentions; she was not very good at this skill quite yet.

He blinked, and then smiled. _Thank you. _He said, and then paused wondering exactly how much of a conversation they could even have. _Elphaba? _He signed her name carefully and with much more theatricality than he was used to, but Galinda seemed to understand him.

She did not know how to explain that Elphie had not turned up yet, and so she simply shrugged. That ought to do, and Fiyero nodded, though he hardly seemed pleased. Galinda, now completely at a loss as she really could not sign much beyond names, places, and basic instructions, turned to a writing desk and pulled out paper and a quill.

Dipping the nib in a black oily well, she began to write.

Curiously, Fiyero leaned over her shoulder. She explained, in beautiful cursive, that she had expected Elphaba back the night before. Taking the pen when she offered it, he wrote 'me too' underneath. Galinda smiled. Confused, he asked where she had learned to sign, thinking she may be more amenable to the question that Elphaba was. She replied that Elphie (he could imagine that name lasting very long) had told her about him so many times that she thought it prudent to learn how to communicate with him.

Fiyero smiled and thanked her again, impressed that she had undertaken such a task. He swelled with pride that Elphaba had been talking about. _She won't be here yet. I will go. _He signed, as basically as he could. Galinda nodded, and ran to hold the door open for him.

"It was nice to see you." She signed, smiling and extended her hand for him to shake. Fiyero accepted it gladly, and they parted, with only a slight feeling of uneasiness that Elphaba had not shown up.

* * *

><p>"Fiyero, if I had seen her, I would have told you." Galinda reminded him, stalking purposefully towards Crage Hall. The prince and his friend, the young Lord Avaric of Tenmeadows, walked alongside her. They struggled to keep up with her, despite her diminutive size. Since she was not quite as proficient at signing for Fiyero as she hoped to be after ten days of study, Avaric had come to all of their meetings as a form of communication.<p>

Fiyero was furiously signing words meant for his friend, though he looked at Galinda. "Uh, he wants to know why she hasn't come yet." Avaric began. "Why do you think she's delayed?" He asked her.

Galinda stopped short and addressed the prince, mouthing her words so carefully that she hoped he could lip-read. Although Avaric still translated. "Listen, Fiyero. I have absolutely no idea why in Oz she hasn't arrived here. She was hardly ever one for tardiness, but neither was she one to care much for any of the frivolity of a welcome week, such as we are enjoying."

_Galinda! It's almost over – the working week begins tomorrow! _He responded. Every day he had gone to Elphaba and Galinda's room, hoping he would find them both there, arguing over something trivial. He wanted to take her out. He wanted to take her to dinner, for that coffee she had promised him. He kept picturing her last goodbye to him, and it felt far too final.

Galinda took pity on him, seeing that he was almost shaking with frustration. "I don't know her half as well as you do. For all we know, she is stepping onto the platform as we speak."

He shook his head. _A part of me wishes I could be satisfied with that and go home. _Galinda shuffled her feet. _But you know as well as I do that she should be here right now. She told me she would be here last week. _

Galinda understood his discomfort. They were meant to begin classes again the following morning, Even the tardiest students had settled in two days ago, and Elphaba was always eager to begin even after a long weekend. She, too, felt sad that her friend had not shown up sooner. It was curious. It was too curious. A small voice told her something was not right.

"You're right." She said to Fiyero, looking at Avaric too. "It is . . . weird isn't it?"

Avaric spoke then. "I think all this questioning is about as useful as watching paint dry. It would be more productive to walk to Munchkinland." Galinda laughed, and Fiyero only smiled. "Or you could simply go to the registry." He suggested.

Fiyero's eyes lit up, as though a bulb in his mind had suddenly been switched on. _Yes! You're brilliant! _He exclaimed, slapping the man on the back with a strength unknown to him, and grabbing Galinda's hand.

"Oh, they might not be open today!" Galinda protested, shuffling along reluctantly in her heels. "You know, we are going to look bloody stupid if we show up later and she's sitting with a book on the bed."

But nothing she could say and no amount of effort she could muster would turn Fiyero around. It simply had to be checked. He was not entirely sure what to expect from the registry, but they could give them a phone number or something useful. He worried that they would refuse to give the information out, but he was determined at least to ask.

The registry building was similar to much of the colleges at Shiz; big, built of hard grafted stone and corniced with fantastical creatures from the mythology of Oz and Shiz town itself. The interior was lofty and a thousand conversation echoed about the hall as they made their way to the inquiries desk, which was policed that afternoon by an old woman, whom they hoped was kindly and understanding.

"Good afternoon." The old woman addressed them, her voice raspy but clear and polite. "How may I help you?"

Fiyero pushed Galinda forward, and she scowled at him before schooling her features and smiling at the old lady. "Forgive our appearance." She said, smoothing her hair and dress and poking Fiyero in the ribs until he attended to his own clothes. "We were caught in a slight wind."

_Get to the point, Galinda. _Fiyero urged her.

"I do apologise." She said to Fiyero. "Would it be at all possible for you to inform us of the uh . . . the . . . status of Miss Elphaba Thropp of Munchkinland?" The old woman frowned and asked her to be plainer. "yes, um. Would you be able to tell us if there is a reason why she may not have arrived yet at Shiz? Would you know if she is still registered?"

She felt a sharp jab in her back. Fiyero looked annoyed, and she realised Avaric had been signing for Fiyero what she had said to the clerk. _What do you mean is she registered? Of course she is! Why would she not be? _

"Well how else was I supposed to word it? Hmm?" She demanded, after Avaric had translated. Fiyero submitted unhappily and Galinda smiled again at the clerk.

The old woman frowned and laid the parchments out for them all to see. They smelt of fine, new paper and the words and figures were written in the blackest and thickest ink. "You see, here and here are the records of your friend." The woman pointed at the name and the date of matriculation. "Ah and yes, here," she indicated a date further down. "You see her name?"

Galinda nodded, but it was not the name that interested any of them but the words written next to the date and the signature underneath them. There was written: _Miss Elphaba Thropp, lately of Munchkinland, has been stricken from the records of Shiz University and is no longer a matriculated student. _

The stamp below them and the shaken writing was unmistakably that of Frexspar Thropp.


	12. The Telephone Call

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim._

_And so the missing person's case continues . . . did I tell you there would be character death?  
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_Enjoy!  
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><p>"I don't believe it." Galinda gasped, her white hand touching her whitening face. She cleared her throat and smiled bleakly at the woman. "Um, thank you. Can you tell us anything – anything at all about what happened?"<p>

The woman shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry dear. I don't field the student admissions files." Galinda sighed, stamping her foot on the ground and taking Fiyero's hand when she saw how gaunt he was. He seemed to stare at the paper, as though through his will alone he could change it. "But my colleague here – Sarah, Sarah? You handle the admissions don't you?" The younger woman whom she brought over smiled at them and glanced at the parchment.

"What's this about?"

"Our friend, you see here? Elphaba Thropp, she has been removed –"

"And what makes you think she has been removed and she didn't remove herself?" The secretary asked, rather impertinently. Fiyero's face became pinched and his eyes darkened. Galinda squeezed his hand. Avaric shifted uncomfortably; he never liked this woman.

"Well," Galinda began. "We don't know what has happened. That's why we're asking _you._" She said, perturbed by this clerk's attitude. "So, do you remember her? Her family? She is the daughter of the Eminent Thropp. She is green."

"I know who she is, dear." Galinda sighed gratefully. "It was her father who phoned and removed her. We don't ask for a reason so I can't tell you any more than that. However, I can tell you that he was more than agitated. He sounded upset."

Fiyero watched as Avaric translated for him. They exchanged looks of confusion. _Why would Frexspar remove her from the student roll? He – he was fine when I last saw them. And why would she not write us? _

Galinda shrugged. She thanked the staff and they dragged a reluctant Fiyero from the desk. "I don't know what to do. She _can't _not be coming back."

_It doesn't make any sense. _

They walked slowly and aimlessly through the campus. If Fiyero were being sentimental he would have remarked that the sky seemed to darken, but in reality the sun was shining. It was still cold, but no one else was aware of how unsettled their situation was. Part of him was stung; if her father had suddenly yanked her out of school then surely she would write and tell him? If anything was wrong he was sure she would tell him. He knew Frex was tough on her, but he could hardly prevent her from sending out letters.

Could he? A part of his mind screamed out to him that he hardly knew her, and sleeping with her twice did not make them soul mates. Still, something felt abnormal.

Fiyero had no idea what to think. He panicked and wondered if the Governor had somehow found out that he had slept with his eldest daughter. He missed her. He missed her more than anything at that moment, and he was angry at Frex. Though for all they knew the Governor had not done anything wrong.

He grabbed Avaric's arm. _What if she's hurt? What if he phoned in because she's hurt? _Avaric told Galinda, who frowned and denied it. _That woman said Frex was upset didn't she? _The blonde nodded.

"But, Fiyero, what can we do?" She asked him, using her pigeon-signing. "Should we write?"

_Elphaba might be hurt and you want to write? _

"Well what would you propose?" She demanded.

"Calm down you two." Avaric warned, stepping in between them and shaking out a newspaper. "Why don't you check the obituaries?"

_Obituaries? For Oz' sake Avaric I said she might be hurt! _

"It's perfectly obvious to me that you're worried – you're both worried – that the reason her father phoned and was upset was because she died. So check the damn paper and find out. The death of the future Eminent Thropp would make a bit of a splash I'm sure." He held out the loose papers in front of them, looking between Fiyero and Galinda before Fiyero grabbed them and thumbed eagerly through the pages.

Fiyero would have been angry at Avaric for speaking so heartlessly, for stating such a horrible thing out loud as though his spoken thoughts became truth, if he had been so morbidly curious to search for Elphaba's name. He scanned the public announcements section as though his life depended on it. Galinda stepped around and leaned over his shoulder, shooting looks from him to the paper.

"Well?" Galinda asked, almost shrieking.

It took Fiyero several attempts to actually focus on the headlines, but he still found nothing. He shook his head at Galinda, who grabbed the paper from him and conducted her own search. _Avaric. _He signed, turning to his friend who sensed that this meant more to him than he had first anticipated. _If something has happened to her, and it's been weeks since her father phoned there wouldn't be any mention of it now. Not in today's paper. _

"No you're right."

"What is he right about?" Galinda asked, folding the paper back up and slipping it into her purse. Avaric told her. "No, of course. I could phone my parents?" Fiyero nodded, though it was unenthusiastic. He sat down on a bench in the square that had entered. Students walked around them, oblivious. "Fiyero I just think that if she really had died or been taken ill then we would have heard something by now."

_But what's happened then? Why has she been removed?_

"I don't know." Galinda said, uselessly. She played with a curl on her shoulder, and closed her eyes against the sun. She wondered what Elphaba was doing right at that moment. "Why don't we telephone her father?"

Avaric interrupted then, squatting before them as they sat together. "Don't you think this is a bit much? Not one of you really knows her that well. Maybe you haven't heard anything because there isn't anything to hear. Did you ever consider that she just dropped out? All of girls do it, you know." He laughed. "Though I hardly think _that _was Elphaba's reason . . ."

Suddenly, Fiyero's stomach plummeted and he felt violently sick. He grabbed Galinda's arm.

"Ow!"

_Sorry. But, Galinda, _he signed, nudging Avaric to translate. _When I went home for Lurlinemas my parents made a visit to Munchkinland and took me with them. Elphaba and I – we grew close. _

Avaric stared at his friend. "Oh Oz, Fiyero. Please tell me you aren't suggesting that?"

_Tell her! _

Avaric spoke, and Galinda's eyes widened. "You . . . you slept with her?"

_Only twice but – that's all it takes. _

"Goodness me." Fiyero gave her a look. "I'm sorry it just doesn't sound very like her."

_It wasn't. But she's a different person sometimes, with me. I love her. _

"And you think her father pulled her out because she's having your baby?" Galinda sat back. "This sounds awfully dramatic for Elphaba."

_What is that supposed to mean? _

Galinda paused. "Fiyero I hate to tell you this but . . . if Elphaba found out she was having a baby and she thought it might mean expulsion from Shiz . . . then she would have gone somewhere or to someone to . . . you know . . . get rid of it." Fiyero nodded. "Besides it's been two weeks since she was removed, and you could only have slept with her about five or so weeks before then. I doubt she would even have noticed."

_And her father ignores her so much. I doubt he would notice even if she were nine months gone. _

Galinda agreed and took his hand. "There isn't any point in conjecture, Fiyero. Let me phone. We can use the machine in our room and you can listen!" Avaric shot a look at her. "Well, Avaric can listen. Fiyero can wait."

He did not bother to translate Galinda's final words.

They walked calmly to Crage Hall, Galinda and Fiyero trying to conceal their nerves in their trembling hands and unsteady breaths. Galinda smiled politely at those she passed whom she knew, and Fiyero and Avaric the same, but not one stopped to chat. They simply sped rapidly past every friend and acquaintance, leaving a trail of confusion behind them. Fiyero suddenly realised what Elphaba must feel like, to have so many bewildered faces watching her all the time.

Every step they took Fiyero's heart rate increased along with his hope that when they finally entered the girls' room Elphaba would be hastily unpacking. He pictured her flustered face, red from the exertion of running to catch the last train out of Munchkinland and the mad dash to Crage Hall. But his daydream Elphaba soon turned into the memory of her body rolling and dipping beneath him, and to keep his composure he was forced to dismiss it.

Galinda turned the door handle with an unusual pause and Fiyero thought she might be expecting – or hoping for – the same thing that he was. Of course, an empty room awaited them.

Galinda sat in the chair next to the telephone in their lounge. It afforded a direct view into the bedroom which looked even more lopsided than usual – with Galinda's extravagant pinks and vivid satin sheets next to the utter lack of any sheet or pillow on Elphaba's side. She wondered how long she could still call it Elphaba's side if she really was not going to return. She panicked thinking Horrible Morrible would assign a new girl to her room. She would write to her parents; she would rather be alone.

Avaric and Fiyero sat themselves on the couch and waited, one patient, the other anxious.

"Alright, let me see." Galinda searched her address book, a leather-bound doe brown file, filled with her own practised and careful cursive. She had the names, numbers, titles and addresses of each every important figure in Oz. It was somewhat of a hobby for her. She took care to conceal the portion of the book which held Fiyero and Avaric's personal details. "Here we are." She announced when she flicked to the Thropp family's pages.

She dialled with a steady and delicate finger and awaited a response. She suddenly realised she had not decided what she was meant to say, but it was far too late now – she could hardly hang up while they discusses her opening line. By the look on Fiyero's face she deduced that he was in no mind to wait for anything. He was so tense, she thought a swift slap would shatter him.

After twelve rings a curt voice spoke. "This is the private telephone line of the Governor Frexspar Thropp and family –"

"Family?" Came a second voice from the speaker. Galinda started, and had to put up a hand to calm Fiyero. "_Family?_" The second voice, no more than a hissed whisper, said again.

Galinda heard the first voice, much louder than the other, clear its throat and begin again. She spoke with the same authority as before, but the interruption made it sound terribly forced. Such bad manners on a telephone line would never stand in the Upper Uplands. Something _must _have been awfully wrong, and she feared more for Elphaba's safety.

"This is the private telephone line of the Governor Frexspar Thropp. Please state your name, the person to whom you wish to speak and your reason for calling."

Galinda paused, almost expecting the second voice to scold the operator again. "Good afternoon, my name is Miss Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands. I wish to speak to –" Here she hesitated. If Frex had pulled Elphaba out of school, for whatever reason, and no letter had reached them, then he was hardly likely to allow his staff to field telephone calls for her. She tried to remember is Elphaba had ever used the telephone. "I wish to speak to Governor Thropp, if you please, regarding a private matter." She said, improvising bravely and straining to keep her voice proud and reasonable.

The voice seemed to hesitate. "Very good, Miss Upland. I shall inform the Governor. Please wait. Thank you." She told her, and Galinda nodded at her companions.

Far sooner than she anticipated, she heard a gruff and raspy voice answer the phone abruptly. "Who is this?" Frexspar demanded.

Galinda shifted uncomfortable, glad the old man could not see her expression or how uneasy she was. She did not understand his confusion, knowing the staff would have informed him of the caller's name. "I am Miss Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands, Governor. I called because we – my friends and I – are concerned about Elphaba Thropp's absence from university. Shiz University." She added, assuming he might not remember. "She has not arrived yet, though her classes begin tomorrow morning, which is very unlike her." She heard a scoff, but continued determinedly. "I wish to know if she is alright. The registry shows you removed her from the student roll. Is she alright?" She asked, softer this time.

"What are you talking about, Elphaba? What, Elphaba? What do you mean?"

The line was slightly distorted, but Galinda thought she had heard the words the Governor meant to say, although they made him sound like a madman. Perhaps he was. "Your _daughter_, sir. Your eldest daughter. May I – may I speak to her? Please?" She asked, abandoning the idea of speaking to the Governor. He sounded like his sense and his wits had left him altogether. She just wanted to speak to Elphaba.

"I had only one daughter."

Galinda fell silent. His words had paralysed her. She had no idea what he meant and no clue how to respond. Her hand began to tremble again, but she felt confusion more than anything else. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't quite know what you mean. You have two daughters, have you not? Nessarose, the youngest ands her elder sister, Elphaba Thropp?" She corrected him.

She heard what she assumed was his fist slamming on the table. Though it was thousands of miles away, it still made her jump. When he spoke it was a scream and a shout all at once, and the desperation and sadness was clear as glass. "_I have only one daughter, my Nessarose! And she died two weeks ago. Get away from my family!" _

The line went dead.


	13. The Post

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim.  
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_I really hope you're enjoying this storyline as much as I love writing it - judging by your reviews I would say so. We're nearing the end now though I suppose it doesn't much feel like it yet.  
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_Writing this particular chapter made me feel so excited and I hope you do, too.  
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_Enjoy!  
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><p>A week passed before they could establish anything concrete. Galinda could not keep Frexspar on the phone anymore and eventually she gave up trying when the staff began to recognise her voice. Fiyero had spent a small fortune ordering the newspapers from the weeks following the day he left Munchkinland before he eventually found the one that had published the announcement of Nessarose's death.<p>

He had not truly believed that it was true until he was faced with the fact of it in black ink. The possibility of it haunted him and he could not sleep until he knew. He thought establishing the truth would help cure his insomnia, but the death of Nessa was a blow far too close to home. Not only that, but he knew how crushing such a loss could be. There was no telling what Frex had done. There was simply so knowing where Elphaba had gone. Had he thrown her out? Or had Elphaba buried herself away?

He thought about his own lost siblings and his living sister, the one who would have loved Nessarose and who resembled her so fiercely. He wanted to go home. He wanted to make sure she was alright. He fought tears writing to her the day he read the obituary. He did not mention to her what they were doing, but simply took joy in the knowledge the she was safe.

He knew some judged his family for keeping the little bird cooped inside the walls of the palace, but it was moments like that which made him glad they did. He dreaded the day she would leave.

Galinda had no siblings, but she was pale from sadness for her friend, which Fiyero took a lot of comfort from. She was as driven as he to find her, to make sure she was alright, if nothing else. Neither of them figured she would want to return to university, but neither did they understand why she would have left home voluntarily.

The newspaper stated Nessarose had been buried next to her mother. Surely Elphaba would have wanted to be as close to them as possible? Fiyero was frightened for her. He knew she could protect herself, but grief such as the one she was experiencing was overwhelming.

Still, they could find no trace of her anywhere. For a green girl from a prominent family, she had covered her tracks remarkably. Fiyero had to admit his surprise that Elphaba had disappeared so well. Occasionally he would wonder why she had not come to them, but he knew Shiz would be the last place she would want to return to. Somewhere deep down, he knew she would be in the Emerald City. It was the place in Oz where she felt she would be least alone and yet least conspicuous. No one would be able to single out her greenness there, at least not as easily as in the rest of Oz.

Desperate for information but unable to leave Shiz, Fiyero and Galinda wrote to their friends and family all over Oz. Fiyero was at a loss as to the best possible people to contact and only thought of asking his parents. Galinda had far more savvy in that respect, however, and when they went to send off their mail her pile was almost three times as large as Fiyero's.

_Colwen Grounds? _Fiyero asked, able to be alone with her more now that she had markedly improved in her signing – though she was hardly fluent. A fast learner, however, which Fiyero admired. _Why are you writing to Colwen Grounds?_

"Those servants are far too smart for their own good. It was perfectly obvious to me that they disliked being forced to conceal what had happened to Elphaba. Short of speaking in code, they at least made it clear that they were worried about her."

_Oh, you're writing to the servants? I thought you were writing to Frex!_

Galinda laughed, depositing more letters into the vivid green mailbox. "Oh goodness! Of course I'm writing to him!"

_What? _He exclaimed, shocked at her daring.

Her innocent expression made him feel like an idiot. "It's worth a shot Fiyero. I just tried to express my condolences and to convey the idea that it might not be the best time to alienate his daughter. Don't worry I was very tactful."

_Oh I'm sure you were. _He raised his brow.

"What does _that _mean?" She asked, offended.

_I've seen your tactfulness, Galinda. I wouldn't be surprised if he put a restraining order on you. _

Galinda chose not to be insulted, mostly because she had only caught about half of the sense of what he said. Still, she laughed and it seemed to satisfy him. That night she spent four solid hours working on her signing, wondering what had happened to her academic career.

Galinda had to restrain Fiyero from phoning the police when they did not have an immediate response from their letters for the first four days. She reminded him that even those who were going to respond would have to first try and find the answers to their questions before writing them down. He was antsy and worried. The black shadows under his eyes told her he had not been sleeping and it broke her heart to see how much he missed Elphaba.

She wanted to tell him that they would find her. She desperately wished to make that promise to him, but it was not something she could be sure of. If there was anyone who could vanish without a trace, it was Elphaba.

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><p>Five days after they had sent off the mail, Galinda and Fiyero sat in the blonde's lounge waiting that morning's post in a silence which they filled with curt and pointless conversation. Fiyero had brought study material to work on that was left abandoned in the corner in his book bag. Galinda made no such attempt at filling her time. It was a Saturday and they had nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait.<p>

Galinda was tapping a pencil absent-mindedly when they heard the shuffle and thump of mail landing on the floor. Fiyero was much faster than her and bolted to the door where only a newspaper had fallen.

He looked crestfallen at Galinda. "It's only the paper boy, Fiyero." She reassured him. "It's nine o'clock just. The proper mail won't arrive for a couple of hours." He nodded, having known this already since they had spent every morning waiting for the post in her room. Fiyero's post would arrive at eight and he would bring anything important to Crage Hall. So far, the important stuff had not been forthcoming. He hoped it was due to the fact that post from the Vinkus usually took four days to reach his parents in the first place.

He placed the crisp new paper in Galinda's outstretched hand and stood leaning on the back on the couch, too nervous to sit. The blonder spread the pages open before her and carefully began to read every single line. He began to pace, realising how long it would take for her to read anything important. A moment before he was about to divide the paper in two in an effort to aid the task, the second of the newspapers they had decided to scour for news of her arrived.

Fiyero set to reading it. It was from Shiz, and Galinda's from the Emerald City. He hardly expected to find much in the Shiz edition, but since it was a University newspaper, the journalism tended towards to new, the exciting, the dangerous and the disturbing. Anything in Oz likely to incite hatred, fear or sadness in its readers would be printed. They hoped to find some article which detailed the death of such a young girl. Both ignored the morbid paths which the situation had forced them to tread.

"Fiyero!" Galinda called excitedly, banging her fist on the table. She crumpled a sheet of paper and threw it at him when he did not respond. "Fiyero, come and see this!" She said. He went over to her keenly, pulling a chair to sit beside her.

_What is it? _He asked, skimming the page for 'Thropp'.

"This one, this article here." She pointed at it and began to read, more to set the words clearly in her mind as though sounding them out would allow her to discover if they spoke any truth. Honestly, her heart raced a little. "A young student from Shiz has recently been discovered to have exceptional talent in Sorcery and Medicine. The female, whose talents have attracted the General Medical Council and the Council of Thaumaturgy, is currently performing potentially ground-breaking research into the causes of Meningitis." Galinda paused, and she and Fiyero exchanged a knowing look. "The disease spread rapidly through Oz twenty years ago, killing thousands and leaving an equal number with disabilities. The GMC and CT awarded the fledging medical research company with a grant to fund their future work. The company has been in business for ten years, gathering intimate and detailed research on Meningitis, but told this journalist that the work of this new young woman was a turning-point for them. They are very optimistic for the future and hope that he knowledge of both medicine and magic will afford new possibilities for the community." Galinda finished, and looked to Fiyero.

_It isn't much. _He commented, touching the print as if Elphaba would have felt him.

"I know." Galinda acknowledged. "But it's more than we've had, and it _could _be her. The company is in the Emerald City, we know she has an unusually brilliant way with Sorcery and we know that she has been personally affected by Meningitis. In a way, it killed her sister."

_A reckless driver killed her sister. _

Galinda nodded sympathetically. "Yes, but perhaps she would not have been hit had she been able to hear the clatter of the wheels. Perhaps that small mercy would have saved her. Maybe that's what is killing Elphaba right now, and if she _has _been abandoned by her father, it would make sense if she tried to work on finding a way to help others who were in the same position as Nessarose."

Fiyero watched Galinda and smiled, satisfied by her logic. _It's more than we could have hoped for I guess. Thanks, Galinda. At least now we have a lead to follow. We can contact the newspaper and ask about the company. _

"We can contact the company even, assuming they'll give us the name."

_Even if they refuse, there's enough information in the article for us to find it ourselves. A medical research company based in the Emerald City that has been open for ten years and has recently begun conducting experiments with magic: that narrows the field quite a bit I would say. _

Galinda laughed and agreed with him, glad to see a smile on his face and his eyes brighten. She prayed that this lead was the right one. "It doesn't mention her skin." She noted.

Fiyero pursed his lips. _No, but then it doesn't give either her name or the company's name either. It could be she's asked them not to. This Emerald City edition is a well-respected publisher and news house, they would be highly unlikely to want to offend a company doing potentially life-altering research by ignoring a simple request for privacy. _

Galinda had to concede that he was right and turned to the back page for a telephone number.

_What, you're phoning now? _

"Of course, what's the point in waiting? They're open until lunchtime on Saturdays, and we have an hour to kill before the damn post arrives. Might as well try and get in contact with the journalist."

Fiyero waited patiently for some news, while Galinda navigated her way through the administration of the Emerald City newspaper that had, so fortunately for them, taken an interest in the small company who hired a green girl with no degree, no family and a tenuous grip on her own magic.

"Good morning, Dantis Morh'gullen speaking, how may I help ma'am?" The soft accent of the Emerald City sang in Galinda's ears and she responded in her most pleasing tone.

"Good morning Mr. Morh'gullen, my name is Miss Upland of the Upper Uplands."

"Well Miss Upland of the Upper Uplands, what can I do for you?" He asked, in a way that reminded her of her grandfather, and his playful teasing. If was indeed the man who had met with Elphaba, Galinda was glad of it; he seemed empathetic and kind.

"I am calling regarding a very recent article you wrote about a company performing medical and magical research on Meningitis. I was wondering if you could tell me anything more about the young scientist?" She asked innocently, though she was perfectly prepared to be honest.

The voice of the kind journalist, sighed and told her he would be happy to repeat the information his editor had cut. "The student, who wished to remain nameless and also asked we not print the name of the company, has an as yet untested gift with magic but the scientists she's working with are looking into the possibility that she may provide life-altering cures for the living sufferers of Meningitis."

Galinda started. "So she might _cure _it? That's a bold claim!"

The journalist laughed. "Indeed it is, but I have met this young woman. In fact I spent a day with her. I give you my word – for what it may be worth to you – that if there is any person in this land capable of creating some form of relief from the diseases, then it is this girl. She did stress the importance of not jumping to conclusions. The project is still very much in the early stages of development."

"But she's happy?"

The journalist hesitated. "She is happy to be working towards a cure, I could not say otherwise."

"May I ask what you mean?" She inquired eagerly, feeling as though she was speaking almost directly to her friend.

"She seemed determined in her work, but if I may say so, she seemed to exhibit a certain sadness, too. I could not tell you from whence this thought of mine came, except that it developed after having spent a day with her and her team."

"I see."

"The extent of her work is actually much larger than she cared to have me print, but I would not have liked to in any case. With a disease as devastating as this, I do not like to deal in sensationalism. I respect the young girl more than I would most people of her age and situation."

Galinda started. "Her _situation?_" She asked.

The journalist coughed, though Galinda detected no change in his voice. "I cannot betray her request for privacy."

"Was she green?"

"Sorry?"

"The girl, the young scientist, was she green?"

"Eh . . . I . . . sorry, who are you? Do you know this girl?" The journalist demanded of her, his tone shifting to one he must employ in important and newsworthy moments, she imagined.

"Please," Galinda begged, so close to Elphaba she could taste it. "Please, I'm her best friend. We just want to know if she's alright. Was she green? Did she have long black hair and sharp features? Did she speak with a refined Munchkinlander accent?"

"You're quite a journalist yourself." He said. "And I don't think you need me to answer those questions."

"No wait – please!" She yelled, but the line cut off and Galinda slammed the speaker down in anger. "He wouldn't confirm it because she's asked them not to give any details, but Fiyero I'm sure it's her. The way he spoke – there's just no doubt."

Suddenly, Fiyero seemed to deflate. It was as if his tension was air and it had been the only thing holding him upright. He sank into himself and laid his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths and Galinda allowed him to sit undisturbed while she re-read the article.

_We have a week off soon. I can go. I can go to the city and find her. _

Galinda frowned. "I don't know about that Fiyero." She said.

_Why the hell not? _

Galinda sighed and sat down on the couch next to him. "We know it's her, don't we?" He nodded, unsure of her point. "Well, she asked the paper specifically not to reveal any sensitive information to anyone about either herself or the company. We can research it further from here if you'd like. I just think it's obvious that for now she wants to be left alone. She hasn't written to anyone, Fiyero, though she quite clearly has the means."

Fiyero stared at the blonde girl helplessly, before she realised that nothing she said would prevent him from running out to the city to find her. _That just isn't good enough for me, Galinda. I have to see her. I can't – after everything that happened to her and with us – I can't leave her like he did. I just want to see her for myself. To talk to her. _

Galinda nodded, though she thought Fiyero's eagerness might frighten the newly grief-stricken green girl. She watched him rise and gather his coat and bag. "Where are you going? Where _are you going?" _She demanded.

_I told you. We've no classes next week. _

"It's meant to be a study week, and since we've spent the best part of our time doing nothing but scouring newspapers I think it's time best spent in the library."

_There are libraries in the Emerald City and I can study on the train. _He insisted. He was out and the door closing behind him before she could get another word in. Even then she barely had time to register all that had happened before the slap of letters on the floor made her jump.

Less bothered now she had spoken to the journalist, she swept the magazines and leaflets from the ground and shuffled through them nonchalantly on the off chance she might find something.

And eventually, at the bottom of the pile, was a letter from her mother, written in hasty cursive.

_Dearest Galinda,_

_I write this to you having just returned from the Emerald City myself. I know you said you thought your friend might have ensconced herself there and you were so very right my dear! _

_As an ambassador and campaigner for the General Medical Council you are of course aware I travel frequently to the city to review funding applications, etcetera. Well, there was one from a very small and almost insignificant company working in the city, known as Meningitis Research Oz, or MRO as the abbreviations go. It requested money based on the new work of this young and might I mention highly unqualified new scientist._

_I will not bore you with details that are irrelevant, I will only tell you that I was sent to meet with this group and their new recruit. Let me tell you what an eye-opening day that was! Magic has been unruly and taboo for centuries in Oz, but this girl has an effortless control over it and she had barely even begun to harness the full extent of her abilities. _

_And yes, my dear, she is green, so I knew when I got your letter that I had done something important for you. I was concerned for this young girl as soon as I saw her, but I did establish that she has a flat and a good salary. At least you many rest on the point of her safety. _

_Off topic slightly, and I do not know if this is something you will find significant, but the young green girl I met with was in the early stages of pregnancy. A very slight swell in her abdomen was visible and her co-workers seemed to be as aware as I was since they were asking after her health and all. _

_If you do find get into contact with her I would be glad to know that she is alright. _

_Love,_

_Mother. _

"Oh Fiyero." Galinda sighed. She stood for a moment before running after him.


	14. The Company

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim. _

_There will only be about three chapters after this one so we are very near the end! I've loved writing this and I've especially loved hearing from you guys! Hope you enjoy the final chapters! _

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><p>The walk from her flat to her work always made Elphaba smile. It was a nice part of town, and not a place she had expected to live since she had arrived in the city with so little. It took her almost twenty minutes from leaving her front door to entering the building. The company she worked for was young – very young – and seemed to think they had struck gold with her. Elphaba took a different view of it but she was grateful to be valued by them, especially because many of them were the sharpest minds she had ever met.<p>

It was named simply after the work it performed – research into the causes and effect of Meningitis. She hated the disease and everything about it. It made her feel short of breath to remember what had happened, and she did not dwell on it.

She crossed the last road that stood between her and her work. The sun hit her face, the warmth of it blinding her for a moment. She blinked in the light, the welcome sign greeting her with all the importance of a well-funded research and medical science facility. As with most commercial buildings in the Emerald City, it was green, but it retained the quaint features which made it identifiable as belonging to the Old Town district of the city. Of course, most of the 'old' buildings had now been renovated, but it was a well-loved area, allowing both citizens and tourists to revel in their history.

Elphaba loved the interior of the workspace. The walls were made of thick, cold stone, which were a welcome relief from the heat of the Ozian sun. Her own office was bright but private and three walls were lined with fit-to-bursting bookshelves, only the fourth left free for the wide sash window. One bookcase could be opened to reveal a not-so-secret route to both patient rooms and conference areas.

"Good morning Miss!" The young and constantly happy clerk chirruped as Elphaba walked past and pressed the lever for the elevator. She smiled at the young woman as the doors were closed by the porter.

As she exited on the fifth floor and walked purposefully along the corridor to her office, she passed the staff members who made up her rather distance circle of 'friends'. Half of them were Animals, and University or College graduates. The facility, her boss had told her, made a point of hiring Animals. Though initially she had been invited out by her colleagues night after night, eventually it became clear that drinking was not an activity she should partake of in her near future, and they grew comfortable being kept at arm's length by Elphaba.

"Miss! Miss Thropp!" Called one of her assistants. Elphaba stopped in her tracks and greeted the student. "Morning, I compiled the list of patients we've managed to contact so far and put them in your office. We've also received a strong list of new addresses since you spoke to that difficult Gillikin doctor."

"He was difficult for a reason, Sammo." She told him. "That doctor had been stupidly led to believe he could find cured for all of his patients for years without any luck. He just didn't want to get involved in another good-for-nothing ploy."

Sammo shrugged. "Yeah well he should've realised who he was talking to." HE said, nudging Elphaba.

She laughed a little. "Oh he did. Eventually."

"Anyway, we're working on sending a team out to make sure we've gotten everything properly. In the meantime I think you have a few appointments today."

"Please tell me no more press." She begged.

"No more. I told Mrs Ermine. No more press. Just patients I think." He said sadly, knowing they would have read 'cure' in the papers and assumed the best. It was Elphaba's job to disenchant them. Partly because she had to earn her stripes, and because they refused to talk to anyone expect the magic girl.

"Oh, great." They reached her office, a room all the staff knew you did not enter without her permission. Sammo stopped at the threshold and wished her a good day. Elphaba knew that meant she probably would not see him again until tomorrow; he would be in the back with the records and files, earning his own stripes by helping to organise back catalogues. They were important, after all.

Elphaba shut her door and the noise of a busy staffroom out firmly. She took in a deep breath and crossed to the other side of the room where she ungraciously sat down.

In front of her sat an old, grainy, grey photograph of her sister and herself. It had been taken five years ago. They had been told to sit for an official family portrait, but this one was an outtake; a moment of shared laughter between the sisters that Elphaba had asked to be printed twice. She gave it to her sister that Lurlinemas as a present. She had taken it with her to the funeral, laying the other on the coffin as it was lowered into the ground. It had been the only personal item she had on her when her father had her removed.

She shook the memories fiercely from her mind. Before her were brown marked files, piled about a foot high for her to review. She sighed and cleared her throat. To her left sat her diary, which she opened to check when she had scheduled appointments with frighteningly hopeful wannabe patients.

They had come in droves since the newspaper, but more recently Elphaba had taken on a research case of a young girl to whom her and her team wanted to apply their scientific method. Elphaba had made several breakthroughs in mediocre medical magic – no more than unblocking a nose, healing small scratches and removing back pain. Her greatest and most wondrous act was when she began working on the badly blocked ears of this young girl. She had so much fluid trapped in her auditory tracts that she had lost the ability to hear very well. Doctors had been unable to remove the fluid with needles, and as a last ditch attempt, her parents appealed to Elphaba.

Reluctantly, and without much hope, she had begun to work on her. Muttering quietly a combination of spells designed to work on clearing infection and fluid and to isolate and identify the source of the problem, she spent three hours pressing and forcing her energies before she halted the exercise, too physically exhausted to do any more.

Furious with herself for not dismissing the idea at the first, Elphaba had apologised profusely and sent the family away. She had slept fitfully for twelve hours once she got home. She was exhausted. She knew she should never have agreed to spend so much of her magical energy on something she clearly did not understand and was unprepared for. As a result, she had refused to do any more consultations or performances. She was focused purely on understanding how to improve and refine her skills. At least that had been the plan, until the girl returned the day after with fully improved and normal hearing. Her boss had promised she would still be undisturbed by patients, but Elphaba had asked her whom she intended to use to keep them away. She could hardly blame them for wanting to find a cure for their loved ones. She would have done the same.

With one hand tapping the white paper of her diary and her eyes scanning the report from the girl's treatment, the other fell to her abdomen and ghosted the gentle swell there. She closed her eyes tightly, pressing her hand more firmly against the material of her blouse.

Fiyero.

What she would not give to speak to him again. It was her own fault; she had written to him thirteen times but each letter sat unposted in her drawer. No matter how much she felt for him, how much she missed him and how desperate she was just to see him, she was always left with the feeling that he might reject her. He was a prince, and she was a disowned ex-future Governor of a minor farming district. In truth, she had no right to expect anything other than silence from the Vinkus.

She jumped when a knock came to her door. She had been deep in thought for an hour – it was uncommon lately. She kept losing herself. Everything felt far too surreal.

"Who is it?" She asked, an invitation only for the knocker to identify themselves.

"It's Mrs Ermine, Elphaba."

"Come in."

The middle-aged, kindly woman slipped in and clicked shut the door. She sat in one of the wooden chairs in front of Elphaba's desk. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine."

"It's perfectly obvious to me that you most certainly are not." She said pointedly. Mrs Ermine had a husky and commanding voice and earned Elphaba's respect, if not her trust, far more than the sneaky and unsettling Madame Morrible – a woman who continued to try to get into contact with her. "I've had calls from the Wizard's administrators."

"So have I. I don't think they're going to be any trouble. They keep asking me how well the research is going. They're trying to be motivating and are simply succeeding in being irritating."

Mrs Ermine laughed. "True." She stretched in her seat, the old wood creaking underneath. "If anything they'll give us more money, which is something we can definitely use." Elphaba nodded and said nothing. "I will not let this go, Elphaba."

"I don't expect you to. Nor do I expect to convince you that I'm alright."

"Then why do you keep insisting that you are?"

"Because I am trying to keep from falling apart!" She hissed, slapping her hand on the desk and shifting in her chair in embarrassment at her outburst. Mrs Ermine bit her lip. "This work is the most important thing in my life."

"It should be important, but I think there are other things you should prioritise."

"That is none of your business."

"You're right, of course. But there are vindictive and manipulative people in this city and I know how lucky I was to find you, the vanished daughter of the grieving governor. The genius student of Sorcery squatting in a poorhouse. So," She rose and handed Elphaba some forms. "I will continue to act as your unofficial guardian whether you like it or not."

"What are these?"

"Forms for Maternity leave. You need to let me know how much time you want off and how much you are entitled to. Bear in mind a first child for a single parent can be the most challenging period. You might need more than you think." Mrs Ermine smiled, though Elphaba remained stony-faced. "And you have a patient waiting. Shall I ask them to come back?"

"No." She replied curtly.

Mrs Ermine nodded and left, with Elphaba sitting impotently in her chair, staring at the forms that forced her to confront the reality of the baby. She remembered that poorhouse, though not voluntarily. She had nowhere else to go. Her lif it was such a mess, and she did not know if her work was enough to keep her above the surface. She rubbed her eyes and kept them closed, feeling the immediate benefit of the darkness.

Another knock.

"Come in."

She heard the patient enter and the door shut. Sitting up, she fumbled about for the company's leaflet on their medical practice policy. "I don't want to disappoint you, but we are not in the habit of treating patients. What happened the other day to the little girl is unprecedented and we really can't move on until we understand what happened there. Do you –"

She looked up and saw Fiyero. Behind him, peeked the blonde head of Galinda.

_I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. _

Instinctively, Elphaba made to sign, but her hands shook and would not move. She stretched her fingers and clutched at the silk of her skirt. She could not speak. Fiyero was half-smiling, but it did not make her feel glad. She darted her glance from him to Galinda and back again. Her blonde friend seemed to be more aware of Elphaba's unsteady state and was nodding calmly.

"It's alright Elphaba." Galinda reassured her, stepping around the small space to sit at Elphaba's knees. "It's ok." She said, taking her hands.

Fiyero stood in front of them, and watched Elphaba follow Galinda's gaze as though it were too painful to look at him. He saw Elphaba's hand lift to her mouth, covering it as she began to convulse into sobs, alarming him beyond belief.

_Sweetheart. _He signed, rushing to her side and cupping her face, now soaked with violent, fat and thick tears. They ran over her hand and onto his as he held her, shaking in his arms.

"Oh Oz, Fiyero." She said.

_What are these? _He signed, not expecting Elphaba to answer him. _Galinda?_

She took them into her hands. "Maternity Leave, Fiyero. You know, time off for the baby?"

Elphaba's hands flew to her stomach then, and she seemed to try to pull herself together, shoving them both away and telling them to sit on the chairs opposite her. Galinda shuffled out three handkerchiefs to her friend. Elphaba whipped them out and scrubbed at her face, sniffing and failing to calm herself down. They sat in silence, waiting for her.

"Elphaba? Is everything alright in there?" Mrs Ermine's voice came from the door. "Elphaba?"

Galinda frowned at her friend, who nodded. "Uh, come in." She said.

Mrs Ermine entered with trepidation, unsure of obeying the unfamiliar voice. She clocked the two guests and her sobbing employee. "What's going on here?" She demanded. "I'm sorry – I'm going to have to ask you two to leave. We do not perform medical treatments anymore." She demanded.

"No." Elphaba said, just as Mrs Ermine was ready to man-handle them off. "Leave them alone."

"Elphaba_"

"_No!"_ She repeated. "They're my friends." She told her. "He's – he's the father."

Mrs Ermine looked at Fiyero, who had no clue why he was being singled out, but he smiled anyway. "_Prince Fiyero Tiggular is the father of your child?" _She asked, eyebrow raised.

"So surprising? I'm quite a catch you know." Elphaba said, making Galinda laugh. Fiyero nudged her and she began to explain what the joke was. "Galinda?" Elphaba asked, watching her friend converse in almost – but not quite – fluent sign language.

Fiyero turned to Elphaba and laughed. _You haven't lost your sense of humour. _He said.

Everyone was staring at her, but she only looked at Fiyero. Still, she found she could not reply. Signing – it just reminded her far too much of her sister. She shook her head in response and dropped her gaze.

Silently, Mrs Ermine left the room.

"Elphaba, we have to talk." Galinda told her. She leaned forward whispering, as though Fiyero had suddenly gained the ability to hear. "Why won't you speak with him?"

"I can't." She replied simply. "Galinda, I just can't do it. I don't even know how I get up in the morning. It's the little things, I guess." She lied, not really knowing what she was doing at all. Everything she had used to justify her new 'purpose' seemed irrelevant. Having them both in front of her made it seem like the delicate world she had rebuilt for herself was tumbling down. She felt very self-conscious of how she looked. She realised she had been crying.

"You're still in love with him." Galinda said, as though she were stating that the sun was in the sky.

"Yes. But-"

"I know. He's in love with you, too. He just wanted to know you were alright. He didn't know if you would want anything to do with him."

Elphaba's heart sank at that, and she reached into her drawer to hand Fiyero the pile of letters she had never sent out to him. Still, she said nothing, and even as he read them she could not look him in the eye.

"Galinda?" The blonde looked up from the letters she, too, had begun to read. "Would you – do you have somewhere to stay tonight?" She nodded. "You and Fiyero?"

"We were going to stay at my parent's flat. They use it when they come to the city. He wanted you to come with us."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"He's just looking out for you!" Galinda stressed.

"I know that, but I have my home and my – my things. I feel safe there." Galinda sighed. "I want a night alone with Fiyero." She said quietly, teasing out stray threads from her skirts. "Please."


	15. The Resolutions

**_Author's Note: _**_I disclaim.  
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_Penultimate chapter here - I suspect it doesn't quite feel that way but I promise no stone is left unturned between this update and the next. Thanks for those of you who have said the story deserves more reviews - that means a lot! I appreciate every word you've all sent me though so thank you!  
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_Enjoy!  
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><p>Elphaba sighed laughingly as she stood at the foot of the bed, the morning sun filtering through the blinds and falling over Fiyero's sleeping form. She tapped her foot, pretending irritation that he had not woken yet. In truth, he looked so serene, so comfortable, that it was all she could do not to crawl back into bed and join him.<p>

Reluctantly, she knelt next to him. His hair was shorter than the last time she saw him. Still, it fell in little tufts over his forehead. A whistle accompanied his breathing. He lay on his stomach, his arm flat where she had been lying underneath it. Just then, the alarm she had next to her bed sounded. It was loud and relentless; a consistent _ring ring _for a long minute.

When Fiyero hit the silver nozzle that shut off the buzzer she waited for him to turn over and wake, but he simply snuggled back into the pillows and seemed to drift off again. Perturbed, she crossed the room to a chair, picked up her cat and flung it at his face.

With a shriek which Elphaba could not discern as being wholly human, Fiyero jumped from his place on the bed which was immediately taken over by the black bundle of silky fur.

Elphaba sat on the edge of the bed in fits of laughter, while Fiyero stared at her, his hand clutching at his heart.

_You threw the cat at me!_

"Oh come off it. You're acting as though I held a gun to your head!" She giggled, her cheeks a deep forest-green. "You were sleeping in. I won't have it."

_No? _He inquired, hopping to her side and pinning her down when she lay back to laugh again. She was speaking to him this morning. He had worried she would clam up, after he had finally managed to communicate with her some hours ago, and only after he had removed her clothes. _I won't have you leave the bed. _He said, his body sitting atop hers, a heavy weight on her hips. She stopped giggling.

"I'm so frightened." She teased. Her fingers crawled up his chest and caught his neck, pulling him to her lips. He pressed their bodies together and felt the happy response of her hips lifting to meet his own. Flashbacks of the night before came him; her reluctant silence as the memory of signing for her sister remained too painful, his kisses upon her tear-stained cheek as she sobbed for him and all she had lost. Finally, her moans and sighs when he undressed her, and made love to her. They fell asleep only as the dawn broke, and here they were, the foreplay of a passionate exchange beginning again.

They finished quickly this time, the remembrance of the evening before accelerating their arousal to climax. As they lay next to one another, Elphaba rolled over and tucked herself into his embrace.

_Why did you buy that awful creature? _He asked, meaning the cat, who had padded from the room during their loud and vociferous sex.

"It was nice," She began, her fingers working lazily, "to have another heartbeat around the house. And I adopted him."

_You already have another heartbeat around the house. _He said, his hand resting on her stomach, pointing out the swell of the baby.

Elphaba laid her hand on his and frowned. "I know. I don't know what to do about it."

_Galinda thought Frex might have kicked you out because you were pregnant. _

"I think he might have, if not for . . . other factors."

_This was back when we didn't know what had truly happened. She also said that if you thought your father would disown you, you would have gotten rid of it. _

Elphaba considered that. She had no idea what she would have done if that were the case. "I can't think about that. The fact is that did not happen. My father has no idea about this. Still, I don't actually know if I will keep it. I certainly can't raise a baby at this age and you – you're going to be King. You can't have an illegitimate child running around. Isn't there some sort of line of succession thing to worry about?"

_I don't know. _He admitted. _I don't really care about any of that. If you want to keep it then I will find a way to make it work. _

Elphaba sat up. "Oh Oz, this is so complicated, Fiyero." She said, her cheeks flushed from sex, but her eyes wide with panic and worry. "I shouldn't keep it. I'd be tying you to a relationship with me that we might not even want in five years time."

_I don't think there's any question of me wanting to be with someone else, Elphaba. _

"Now, yes. But we are not adults. We're nineteen!"

_Eh, _you're _nineteen. I'm twenty-one. _He said, kissing her fingers and resting a hand on the naked thigh that sat folded next to him. He was sore tempted to please her again.

"Fiyero." She said, her expression brooking no room for humour. He removed his hand. "The fact is that it isn't a good time for you or I to have a baby. A baby is not the solution to a situation like this." She paused, and swallowed, her words catching in her throat. "I've just lost my sister. I've been disowned by my father. He never wants to see me again." She broke off, unable to say more and Fiyero brought her into his arms, not needing to hear of her abandonment again.

_I would make you my Queen, Elphaba. _He told her.

She looked up at him. Her hand cupped his face tenderly. "Oh my love, I know you would." She shook her head. "But I do not want to be Queen. I want to be here, I want to work. I love this job that I have now." She sighed. "Nessa's death is tearing me apart but I'm doing this because I can't do anything else. It's what I was meant to do. For her, to save her."

Fiyero held her hands. _You will not be able to save her, Elphaba. No matter how much work you do. _

"I know that." She hissed, standing and pulling on a nightgown. "But I cannot bear to think that another person out there, like me, might have to suffer twice in their life thanks to that disease. Once, it strikes your family and mars them from hearing all the wonderful things there are to hear in the world. Or worse, it strikes them blind, too. Years later when you have finally learned to adapt it hits you again. It takes away the very thing in this land that you would protect with your own life!" She screamed, her eyes burning with tears. Her hands shook before her.

Fiyero sat on the bed in silence. _I know what it is to be struck again and again by this disease, Elphaba. _

She sniffed, scraping tears away with harsh wipes of her handkerchief. "And for that reason I will spend every day I have fighting for a cure to the afflictions wrought by it. If I cannot save my little sister, I will save another's." She said, determined. "I will save you, my love." Fiyero let her kiss him and tasted the saltiness of her tears. "I will save you."

Fiyero lifted her up by the shoulders. _Oh sweetheart, I don't expect that._

"I know." She said, pinching his chin sweetly. "Coffee?" She asked, innocently, before he had a chance to say anything.

_Sure. _He signed, more to the cat than Elphaba. He wandered through to the kitchen. As he walked, he felt the feline slink through his feet and pad ahead of him to a steel bowl of water. The flat was small, but Elphaba had kept it well; it was clean and tidy. She had a loveseat in front of a fireplace and the walls were lined with bookcases.

She had sash windows with wide square panels. They let in the strong yellow sun and made every surface in the room swell with brightness. Fiyero turned into the kitchen. It was a compact square half-room, with the light wooden counters so typical of new Emerald City developers when they got their hands on old buildings. He wondered how she afforded it.

Elphaba was heating water in a pan and filtering tea leaves onto a strainer above a cup. "I only have regular tea. It's – it's not very good, but I can't stomach any other kind. You know. Especially not coffee." She shrugged.

_Any toast? _

Elphaba hesitated. "I don't eat that either."

_You don't eat bread?_

"Not at the moment, no." She said, firmly.

_Okay. Eggs? I could make us an omelette? _

"No eggs."

_Or if you have oats I could make porridge? _

"Don't have oats."

_Where do you keep the milk?_

"_Stop!"_ Elphaba slammed her hand on the counter-top, which was more effective in frightening her that it did Fiyero. "Sorry." She apologised, taking a deep breath. "Mood swings."

Fiyero frowned. He did not believe for a second that was a result of a mood swing. He had watched her grow more and more agitated as he asked about food. On a hunch that he could not explain, he began to search for breakfast himself. As he did so, he was acutely aware of the brashness of his actions. More quickly than he had expected, he felt Elphaba wrench him back, away from the open cupboards. "What the hell are you doing?"

He stared at her face; she was flushed with embarrassment. _You don't have any food. _He stated, the bare emptiness of the shelves flying in her face as evidence. Elphaba bit her lip. _Why don't you have any food? _

She placed an unsteady hand on her hip. "I forgot to go shopping yesterday." She claimed, returning to the hob and pouring the boiling water over the leaves.

Fiyero shook his head. _Liar. _He said, pointing to the disposal bag that stood in the corner. _That thing is gathering dust. _She did not respond. _When was the last time you ate? _

"I eat at work."

_You're pregnant. You can't afford to starve yourself. _

She threw the teaspoon she had been using into the sink with a clang. "Oh what kind of messed up logic is that? I won't be pregnant for very much longer. It's irrelevant."

_I don't mean it like that. The fact is that you're pregnant now, and you have been for weeks . . . or months. _He walked over to her, trying to calm down. _Elphaba, come on. _She rested her head on his chest. _Why didn't you say something earlier?_

She raised an eyebrow. "When? When would have been a good time to bring this up? This is the first coherent conversation we've had since –"

_Sorry, sorry. _He interjected. _So, what, do you not have enough money?_

"I don't have enough anything." She said, shifting in his arms.

_What's wrong?_

"I'm embarrassed." She said honestly. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and sniffed, suddenly realising how much she wanted to wash. "I've taken this flat from Mrs Ermine. It's been given on the basis of a lot of work she think I can do."

_You just told me that you wanted to spend your life doing that. _He pointed out.

"I realise that. But moments of inspiration about what the future holds doesn't make me feel any better about the fact that I'm not making much progress myself. Every day we work harder than the day before and it just doesn't feel like we've done _anything._"

_I think this is the early morning without food for the pregnant woman talking. _He guessed.

She laughed at his exaggeration of the sign for 'pregnant'. "You look ridiculous when you sing _pregnant_."

He sighed. _Yeah but you're a woman. You can just indicate your belly and in the right context people will guess correctly. I do that and people just think I'm hungry. _She laughed.

"Oh Fiyero." She shook her head and handed him a hot cup of tea. Without milk.

_Alright, alright. Setting aside all of this for a moment, if you don't mind, I'd like you to tell me about what happened. How did you end up here?_

"I told you last night." She reminded him. She hardly wanted to relive it, although she did recall that she had not been very understandable. His look told her he was thinking the same. "Fine." He led her to the couch where he took her hands and waited. "I got to attend the funeral. It was . . . well it was awful. But she would have appreciated the solemnity, the respectfulness. There were a lot of Munchkinlanders there. I suppose they were fortunate to be so close. I know he did not extend a formal invitation to any friends.

_My parents would have come. I would have come. Everyone-_

"I knew. I helped him." She shook her head. "It just didn't seem important. It was all – so fast."

_How? _

"The same cart I warned her about earlier . . . when you were with us. On our way back to the stalls it came crashing through the tables. The horse was terrified; there wasn't a man alive could stop it. It ploughed into her. The hooves swiped at her head and landed on her chest. I think someone shot it after Nessa fell."

Elphaba's head fell into her hand as she tried to continue. She felt Fiyero's hands but set them back on his own lap; she could speak more fluently without the reassurance.

"There wasn't anything to be done then, but I remember screaming in a fury at the people around me. Someone, I think, said that I should be taken home. The man who was a . . . a physician I think, he asked her which of them proposed to try and take me." She laughed bitterly. "My father's face . . ." She trailed off, her eyes focused in a trance, "I though he would blame he and hate me for it. But it was as if I wasn't even alive. He'd have forgotten me if I hadn't have followed him home. I remember sleeping in her bed the first night. And the second night I slept in yours."

Fiyero saw in her what he had felt – and still did feel – about the death of his own siblings. He knew better than to try to tough her though, if he wanted to know the rest.

"That was it. That was the last night I spent at Colwen Grounds." She said. "The service was on the third morning, and when we returned, there was a suitcase at the front gate and the housekeeper. I thought she was leaving us." She breathed in a shaky breath. "But it was mine. Frex didn't say a word. Not a sound. He walked into the gates and had to fight me off when I realised what he was doing." Fiyero bit his tongue. "I battled and raged but he was relentless. The housekeeper gave me money for . . . for anything. It got me to the EC where I was found in a poorhouse by Mrs Ermine."

Fiyero clenched and unclenched his fists. _Why did you not come to Shiz?_

She looked at him; bleary-eyed. "Didn't think you'd want me." She admitted, gasping a little when he kissed her.

* * *

><p>"We're going home?" Galinda asked, a little surprised that they had settled things so neatly. "What happened, Elphie?"<p>

The green girl shrugged and nursed a coffee. She played with the rim of her cup and breathed in the wonderful scent of caffeine. "You're going back to Shiz. You and Fiyero." She told her. Galinda frowned. "I can't afford to go back to school, nor do I want to. Everything I have is here now."

"But . . . what about your father?" She asked. They sat in a glass-fronted coffee house in the square opposite Elphaba's workplace. She had taken the day as unpaid time off, but it was a favourite haunt of hers and they knew her beverage without being asked.

"I'm not quite ready to confront him yet, Galinda. Maybe I'll sneak into the grounds every so often to see Nessa, and our mother. Until such time, however, I am staying here. Mrs Ermine pays me well and I have a nice flat. I love my work and I'm going to keep in touch with Fiyero, and you of course." Elphaba sipped her coffee, satisfied for the first time since her sister's death. She did not expect it to last long, but it was a start.

"What about the baby?" Elphaba gave her a look that told her more than she needed to know. "Is he going with you?"

"Yes. We have an appointment in an hour. If you don't mind amusing yourself til then?"

"Course not. Take all the time you want." She said, hiding her disappointment that Elphaba did not want her there. "Where is he now?"

"Oh, he's telephoning his parents." She said, though that was not strictly true. He was speaking to them, but only after he had restocked her flat with food and goodness knows what else. Elphaba imagined returned to cupboards stalked with a ridiculous amount of products and produce. She smiled.

"What's Fiyero saying?" Galinda asked, stirring her herbal tea. The steam wafted towards Elphaba and she had to breathe through her mouth to keep away the nausea.

Elphaba smiled. "He knows we can't have a baby. I don't think it would be a very good start for a young King."

Galinda laughed. "No, it wouldn't. Do you think he'll eventually marry someone else?"

Elphaba shook her head. "Not anytime soon at least, but I don't think that would be because he'd have fallen out of love with me. I want him to. I think he should. But he's already asked me to marry him roughly four or five times since the day you arrived. I can't say what he'll do. Maybe he'll realise he has priorities that push me further down his list."

"He can't forget you." Galinda stated. "That much is obvious."

"He won't." Elphaba agreed. "But it's not as simple as that. If he did want to marry me, it would be much more prudent to try and hand me the title that would pass to me with my father's death."

"But?"

"I don't want it." Elphaba said, her cup clinking on its saucer with more force than she had intended. Some of the hot liquid spilled over, and stained the white tablecloth. "I have no intention of returning to that seat of power."

"You have no idea what you might want in five years time." Galinda told her, echoing Elphaba's own warning to Fiyero. "It is _your _birthright. And whose to say that by the time it passes to you, you won't have sewn a new relationship with Frex." Elphaba scoffed. "You never know. And you wouldn't necessarily have to give everything up here to do it. You could re-assign the purpose of Colwen Grounds."

"What do you mean?" Asked Elphaba, intrigued by Galinda's thought process – something she had to admit she was not expecting.

Galinda pointed in the direction of the company's sign. "That research facility is a toddling baby right now. But with the amount of money and public support you and your scientists are going to have in the next few years, one day it will grow into the finest institution Oz has ever seen."

"I think you're being too generous."

"And you're being too serious. Which is fine for you, and you should be. But people like me, and people like Fiyero and people like the ones who will give you the money and power you need to carry out your research are the ones who can see just how great all of this could really be." Galinda whispered. Her eyes were beginning to sparkle. "Colwen Ground is the perfect place for you to setup some sort of – I don't know . . . rehabilitation centre." She announced, with a flourishing click of her fingers. "You could treat people there. You could educate new scientists there. It could be the first teaching hospital in Oz for Oz' sake. There is _so much you can do._"

Elphaba took a few deep breaths, the image of such a wonderful place dancing about in her mind.

Galinda saw the doubt in her friend's eyes. "I know you feel frightened right now. I know you will probably never fully come to terms with Nessarose's death." Elphaba shook her head. "But that is just today. Think of tomorrow, Elphie, and think of Fiyero, and all the other people you're going to help." Elphaba smiled. "I think your sister would be so proud."


	16. The Woman of Emeralds

_**Author's Note: **I disclaim._

_So this is the final chapter! Thanks so much to every reviewer, to every reader, to everyone. I've loved this story a lot and I hope you're satisfied with the ending.  
><em>

_Enjoy!  
><em>

* * *

><p>Elphaba walked slowly along the street which was dimly lit by yellow lamps. Fiyero trailed reluctantly behind her. He was unsure of what to say. He had offered to pay for a ride back to her flat, but she declined, claiming to need the walk. For the first few minutes, Fiyero had attempted conversation, but words seemed to stick in her throat and all she wanted to do was sleep. She could hear Fiyero's steps a few feet behind her, and wished he had the courage to walk next to her. She could hardly blame him for keeping his distance; she had been silent since they had left the clinic.<p>

Feeling the tension, Fiyero ran ahead and wrapped his hand around hers firmly. She squeezed in response, and they said nothing more all the way home.

There had been a breeze in the air, but while they were walking Elphaba had enjoyed it having felt a little claustrophobic in the hospital. She had felt some guilt making the appointment, but when she and Fiyero came in together there were more working professionals in the waiting room than frightened young girls. Elphaba did not know which group she belonged to, but she was at least glad that no one there seemed to judge her. They had been there a few hours, and by the time Fiyero opened her front door, Elphaba was cold, tired and not a little sad.

He rubbed her arms after lighting a fire. _Will you be alright? _He asked, removing his jacket. She was pleased he had made the decision to stay that night, so she did not have to ask.

She nodded and swallowed. "I feel a bit sad." She admitted, licking her lips self-consciously. "I know it was the right thing to do, but still . . ."

_It was the right thing to do. _He kissed her forehead. _I feel sad, too. _

"Really?"

He nodded. _I'm worried about you. Does anything hurt?_ She shook her head. _Let me know if you feel feverish or dizzy, okay?_

"I just have some cramping. And they said I might bleed a bit." Fiyero agreed, remembering the advice well. "But I'm alright."

_Good. _He said earnestly. _I want you to sit here, while I heat up the bed. Do you want some water? _She shook her head. As he turned down her bedcovers and lit the fire in her room, she warmed herself and almost fell asleep before the flames. She lost herself in the dancing yellow fingers, and began to feel somewhat better. _Elphaba? _She sat up, brought out of her reverie. _Sorry, you were falling asleep. I would carry you to bed, but I don't want to hurt you. _

"No, no. It's fine. I was just . . . relaxing." She smiled and leaned on his arm for comfort.

When they climbed into bed, Fiyero wrapped the covers around her and gave her most of the pillows. She laughed and her heart melted. "That day you left Munchkinland," she said, "I never got to tell you that I love you."

He let her hands touch his face softly. _I love you, too_. He said, and noticed the wetness in her eyes. _It's alright to cry. It was a big thing, Elphaba. _She whimpered, and let the tears fall. _You'll feel better tomorrow, sweetheart. _He promised, as he held her.

* * *

><p><strong>YEARS LATER<strong>

Elphaba straightened out in front of the full-length mirror. She felt unreasonably nervous as she stood before her reflection, ensuring – for the fifth time – that her blouse was properly tucked in and her hem not caught in her underwear. She hated board meetings.

"Ugh. You always get _so _nervous. What's the point? It's just a little bit of business." Galinda reminded her, applying lipstick as she spun around in Elphaba's chair. They were in the green girl's office in Colwen Grounds, rehashing the points of interests before the monthly board meeting of Meningitis Research Oz. "And apart from anything else, they all practically worship you."

"Oh come off it, Galinda." Elphaba scoffed. "They don't. They're just . . . proud." Galinda suppressed a counter-point, and pursed her lips in her hand-mirror. "This is the first meeting since we opened Colwen House. I just don't want to hear anything that could devastate the future of its place in the company."

"You know as well as I do that you would have heard of any serious issue with the building, the patients, the money, the oz-forsaken foundations of the company long before this meeting. Now you're just worried."

"I am worried."

"Where's Fiyero?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "He's going to see us in the conference room my dear." She sang, opening the door. They walked together along the hall of the east wing of the house, which held the offices and conferences rooms of the MRO. Elphaba smiled to herself, remembering that it was once the hall she had stalked along to reach Fiyero's room – a long time ago.

"There's no one here yet?" Galinda asked, as though she were testing the room for another presence. All there was, however, was the wonderful scent of coffee in the air. The room had been warmed for them; the new central heating system quietly humming under their feet. "Smell that coffee, though. Do you want some?"

Elphaba declined the coffee and pulled out her chair. She set out the order of business, and began to place a copy of the schedule as well as all important papers in front of each place at the table. Galinda took her seat at Elphaba's right hand side, placing a full jug of ice water before her as well as sixteen glasses. "I feel very important." She declared, laughing. Elphaba shook her head at the blonde. "You know this meeting might take longer than usual." She said, biting her lip as she examined her diary.

"Why?"

"Well it's an important day, after all."

Elphaba frowned, but was prevented from replying by a knock on the door. Through the stained glass she could see the figure of a tall man, and she smiled. "Fiyero, darling." She greeted him with a kiss.

"Morning." He said, cheerfully. "Oh, you already turned it on." He remarked, lowering his hand from his ear. Elphaba nodded. "Thanks."

"How is it working for you?" Galinda asked, proudly.

Fiyero walked over to her and kissed her hair. "Very well. You may thank your boyfriend for the invention on my behalf."

"Oh believe me, she has." Elphaba teased, receiving a slightly painful ribbing from Galinda in return. "I cannot believe you started dating him."

"Elphaba, he is a very successful man; head of his own company and the inventor of the device which, by the way, has significantly improved your company's successes and your patient's lives. And he's _gorgeous._" Galinda lectured. "And who are you to talk?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elphaba inquired, hands on hips.

"You're married to the future King of the Vinkus for crying out loud!"

"Now you listen here, blondie –"

"Alright. Swords, claws and wands away. And voices down, you have board members outside." Fiyero declared. The two women looked to the door and calmed themselves, as they always did after a harmless fight. Fiyero kissed his wife and walked to the door, welcoming the important staff members and investors into the room. Among them was Frexspar, who smiled at his daughter and rewarded her with a kiss before he took his seat.

It had been seven years since the death of her sister, and there was not a day went by that Elphaba did not think of Nessarose. She could see it too, in her father's eyes, but recently, his expression had grown kinder and it was such a change that had facilitated the birth of Colwen Grounds as Colwen House. Two or three minutes passed, and the room fell silent. Elphaba opened the meeting and to her comfort thing progressed swiftly and happily.

Financially, they were making good headway. Being a charitable body, their profits were churned into research and their recent fundraising campaigns across Oz had been of such success that they members decided that very morning to arrange committee whose purpose would be to continue the fundraising annually. Medically speaking, the teaching hospice they had founded was the first in its field, and hundreds of young specialists were graduating into the care of MRO. Their patient numbers were up and their nursing staff had integrated a system that had decreased the waiting time. Moreover, they were receiving new funding from the government under National Health Service, which meant they could treat patients who could not afford their services previously.

The most pleasing and exciting piece of news that morning regarded the founding of four daughter companies, headed by MRO, each of which would specialise in the prevention and cure of the main diseases that afflicted Ozians to that day. Cancers and severe viral diseases would be given partial funding and allowed to encourage and hire students who graduated from the company's teaching programme.

When they reached any other business, two hours had gone by. Though it may have felt like longer to some, for Elphaba at least it had been pleasant enough. Frexspar requested to address the board and stood opposite his daughter, his red cloaks flowing from his arms as they always had, since Elphaba was a girl.

"I wish to commemorate this meeting, ladies and gentleman, as it is the first of many which shall be held in Colwen House Hospice, dedicated to my youngest daughter." Elphaba smiled gratefully, picturing Nessarose in her head as she listened to the gruff voice of her father. "She lost her hearing and then her life to Meningitis. Many of you will know how destructive such a loss can be and though my behaviour at the time was reprehensible I hope, by gifting this house to my Elphaba, that I have begun to make reparations." Under the table, she felt Fiyero's hand squeeze hers. "I have seen the importance of the work you all do. I have seen children walk in here with no hope of ever hearing their own voices, and leave in tears as they have their first spoken conversation. My daughter is an invaluable sorceress, and as such, I would like to thank her before you all for the work she has done in the name of all of us who have suffered at the hands of this disease." He tipped his head towards the top of the table and sat down again amidst a round of applause that was surely too enthusiastic for such a small group of people.

His business was the last, and as members filtered out, he approached his daughter. "Thank you, father." She said simply. The old man nodded, kissed her cheek and swiftly left the room.

"Where do you think he's off to?" Fiyero asked, when only he and Elphaba remained in the room.

"He'll have gone to talk to Nessa." She replied, knowing that she would have done the same. "You're coming with me later this evening aren't you?"

"Yes." He said, sweetly, disposing of used coffee cups on the tray to be taken to the kitchens. "May I use your office for a while? I have some business I'd like to get out of the way today."

"Sure. I have to give a lecture to some students anyway." She said with some trepidation.

"You'll be fine." He told her confidently. "Thanks." Elphaba shrugged. "Oh."

"What is it?"

"You didn't have any coffee today."

She stared at him. "No." She paused, wondering why he was staring at her.

"You always have coffee."

"Well, today I did not." She told him defiantly.

Nevertheless, he found it odd, but said no more, only frowning at her for another minute or two. "I have another appointment with you today, don't I?" He asked, when he had forgotten about the coffee and she walking with him to her office.

She smiled and linked their fingers. "Yes, you do."

He opened the door for her and locked it shut behind them. "Will you treat me? And do it in here?" He whispered, holding her against the wall and kissing her neck. She sighed happily.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She moaned as he kissed her, but held his face before he could distract her for longer. "But you can't have it."

"Oh, why not?" He complained, disliking the absence of her in his arms.

"MRO policy, you know that. All patients treated in the wards, and no exceptions, your highness." She teased him with a curtsey and ran from the room before he could trap her there.

When Elphaba descended the staircase at Colwen House, the hustle and bustle almost swept her off her feet. She could hear the ringing of phones from the reception desk and the murmur of conversation as Doctors, patients, research scientists and staff walked through the halls. She took a breath as she stepped through the entrance hall to the lecture rooms and greeted her students with a smile. Among them was Fiyero's youngest sister. She beamed at Elphaba, who almost laughed at how similar she was to her brother.

Addressing the twenty or so young doctors there, she ran down a list of the topics they would cover whilst at the Hospice, which included a block of roughly three weeks per subject. She herself would teach the first, where they would be introduced to the methods of Sorcery as applied medically to the patients. The next four blocks would be taught by the heads of each of the departments, and at the end of the year they would be examined and given either a yes or a no from each department head regarding their ability to work professionally within that discipline. The decision would then be left to them as to which they wished to choose. Elphaba spent two hours with the eager students, before leaving them to lunch and seeing to her own patients.

Elphaba's work had developed to the point where she was able to partially restore the hearing and sight of the deaf and blind. Though she felt she was still improving the treatments, her and her team had managed to 'cure' roughly one thousand and seven-nine patients to date. Including her husband. Additionally, a young creator had patented and marketed to MRO a small, intricate hearing device that amplified the sounds for the partially deaf. Fiyero had been his guinea pig, but now every single patient left with one.

At the moment, they still required to come in for subsequent treatments. The cure was such that the healed tissue and cells would deteriorate as the months went by, and so every six weeks patients would return. Elphaba usually only performed the initial treatments, but with Fiyero she of course made an exception.

Before the entered the ward, she rang her telephone message service to check for messages. To her annoyance there were none. "Well, I hope that invention worked out more productively for others." She said to herself in anger. It was a passing mood; she had been waiting for an important phone call for days now, and was almost giddy with frustration that she had not yet received it. She put it aside as she hung up and donned her white coat, walking through the busy ward with pride.

As she opened the door to the first room, a middle-aged man who looked to be a farmer stood to greet her. With him was a woman, whom she knew to be his wife.

"Morning, Doctor." His wife said, in a thick Munchkinlander accent. Her husband bowed his head.

_Morning! _He signed readily.

"Good morning, sir, madam." Elphaba replied, signing for his benefit. She remembered suddenly that she must ascertain whether or not the new students could sign, as it was a requirement for their course. They did provide a class, however, if they could not. "Where are your children today?" She inquired, setting down his file and washing her hands. A nurse entered, carrying sterilised gloves. "Morning Tete."

"Hi, Elphaba." The nurse replied, fitting the gloves.

_Oh, we thought it best they not come._ The farmer said, answering Elphaba's earlier question. He followed her and she scooted over to him on a stool with wheels. "They would be a bit of a nuisance. They number so many!"

"How many?" She asked as she numbed the patient's skin with rubbing alcohol. Tete dimmed the lights and offered a gratefully accepted seat to the wife.

"Five now." The wife answered for her, as her husband had been given a white mask to wear.

"I'm afraid you'll need one, Madam. Just a precaution." Elphaba added, when the lady frowned. "I understand you've had all the surgical treatments so far, sir?" The man nodded and Elphaba checked his file once more. "All the fluid removed by needle and you've been under observation in the ward for two nights, yes?"

_I have, madam._

"Good. Now sir, as I explained this is only the eighteenth occasion on which this treatment has been performed without general anaesthesia. Having said that, I am able to reassure you there is absolutely no danger in being awake for the treatment, but that you are within your rights to request to go to sleep for it."

_I'm alright, thank you Doctor. I'd prefer not to go through all the fuss, if you please._ He smiled eagerly. Elphaba nodded and Tete wrapped a starched brace around the patient's neck to hold him steady.

"Wonderful, thank you Tete." The nurse grinned and watched as Elphaba drew the now familiar patterns around and along the right ear, muttering quickly and fiercely and spell which would restore his damaged cells. As she did so, she felt the patient tense from the pressure she knew he felt in his ears. For a person who could hear, it was similar to the sensation of the ear popping repeatedly. Uncomfortable for one who had never known the feeling.

Gradually, he relaxed, and Elphaba knew to switch to the final part of the spell. She slowed down, repeating the words louder until she was projecting fully in his ear. She did this for another fifteen minutes, resting her hands on a jerked up table so they would not get sore. Suddenly, the man turned to her and she knew to cease the repetition.

"Sir? Can you hear me?" She asked, always tentative at that moment. She did not sign, as she needed to be sure he could hear her voice. He replied that he could, but in a distorted and warped voice. Elphaba recognised it as the same voice every formerly deaf patient used when their hearing returned to them. "Excellent." She said sincerely.

She scooted round to the other ear, and saw Tete hand the husband and wife tissues. It was always the same, of course. No man or woman was immune to such an emotional reaction after their treatments. Once she had repeated the spell on his other ear, she found that he could hear her more easily than any other patient she had ever treated.

"Strange." She said to Tete.

"There's nothing about this patient that would suggest he would be more responsive to the treatment, Elphaba." Tete informed her, handing her a rundown of his medical history. "You've treated younger and healthier men and women and children before."

"Mmm, I see." She sighed and handed the sheet back to be filed. "Perhaps it's simply an improvement due to the number of times it has been performed."

Tete seemed unsure. "If that were the case I'm not convinced it would improve so quickly. And certainly not on our patient here." She said, gesturing to the man whose wife was attempting to teach him a proper Munchkinlander accent. Elphaba smiled in the knowledge that most patients picked up the natural accents of their families or close relatives very quickly, though every one would have speech therapy following their treatment. "Perhaps it's you."

"Me?" Elphaba gasped, returning the stool to its place.

"Is there anything different about you? The other doctors perform the spell seem to have more success when they've been on holiday, or had any recent medical treatment themselves. You're far more powerful than them; it could be anything."

Elphaba promised to consult her most prominent colleagues on the matter. "I'll let you know, thank you Tete. Would you see the patient through to his bed, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow sir."

"Thank you! Thank you!" He replied emphatically, his wife repeating him through a face of tears. "You know, I knew you and your sister when you were very young." He told her suddenly, taking her hands. Elphaba's expression became solemn and grateful. "She was a beautiful young woman. She loved you very much; used to follow you around like a shadow I recall." He laughed and Elphaba smiled, happy in the knowledge that she would be able to talk to this man more the following morning before he was discharged.

Elphaba performed another ten treatments that afternoon, before she was finally greeted by the happy face of Fiyero. Smiling, she dismissed Tete and allowed her to finish her shift early, knowing she would not need much help with a simple restorative treatment. In half an hour she had finished with him and reattached his hearing aid.

"You don't have any more patients do you?" He asked, when she had cleaned up. Fiyero pulled her onto his lap and removed her lab coat and identification. Elphaba replied that she was done for the day. "Brilliant. Let's visit your sister and your mother then, shall we?"

"Please. I've been looking forward to this all day."

"Excuse me?" Came the voice of Tete from the door.

"Oh, Tete, has someone given you something else to do?" Elphaba complained, hopping from her husband's lap to take a slightly more professional stance behind the desk. "Just tell them to bugger off." Fiyero laughed.

"Ha, no Elphaba. Galinda just rushed passed and told me you had a phone call." She said. "I wanted to let you know before I left."

Elphaba perked up. "Oh thanks, that's brilliant. I'll see you tomorrow." The door closed amidst Tete's rushed goodbyes.

"You have a phone call?"

"An important one. It'll only take me a minute thought. It's uh . . . it's about a patient." She lied. "Meet me at the side door?" She asked him hopefully.

"Of course. I'll get your coat and some coffee – oh no, some tea?" He amended, remembering the morning's meeting. Elphaba nodded and thanked him, running from the office and darting upstairs. Fiyero sighed and turned off the lights to the room as he left. He took the long way to the west wing of the Hospice. It was where Frex's study had been and was now a staff room. He said goodnight to the receptionists as the morning shift tidied to make room for the overnighters.

"Evening, Fiyero." One of the older surgeons said as he entered the staff room. "Out with your wife for a bit?"

"I am, Thybith. Best part of the day."

Thybith grinned. He had kind, old eyes and patients loved to be treated by him. He was well-renowned, and Fiyero remembered an ecstatic Elphaba bouncing around their bedroom the day he had agreed to join MRO's team in Munchkinland. "Ah, I'm glad. She's looked tired these past few weeks. Tired but happy. A good look for a Doctor."

Fiyero paused, rummaging in Elphaba's locker for her coat and boots and putting on his own. "She has been tired hasn't she?" He considered, finding it strange that when she seemed most exhausted, she would stop drinking coffee. He remembered when the Hospice had first opened that she had been almost living on the stuff. Perhaps she was trying to avoid addiction, he joked to himself.

"It's not unusual." Said the old man, with a twinkle in his eye. "Where is she now, eh? Keeping you waiting?"

"Ha. Usually it's me holding her up." Thybith chuckled. "No, she's taking a phone call."

The door burst open then, and a red-faced Elphaba appeared next to Fiyero. "Not anymore. I'm finished now. Evening Doctor Thybith."

"I've told you time and again to drop the Doctor. It's Thybith, my dear." Elphaba apologised, but retained the title and he laughed. "I'm off to see patients. Enjoy your evening, young lovers."

"Elphaba why are you so out of breath? You didn't have to run here you know; I'd have waited."

He was surprised when she seemed to react more emotionally than he had expected. "Oh my darling, I know. I was just excited to go out with you. Sorry, I didn't frighten you did I?"

"You're starting to." He said warily, though he could not help but laugh when she began to giggle.

"Come on, now. I want to go while there's still some light." She pulled him along, threw on her boots and coat and they stepped out into the air. It was colder now the summer season was drawing to a close.

They walked along the route which Elphaba and Nessarose used to take together. After ten minutes they passed a bench with a plaque which told nay who read it that it was dedicated to the two sisters. Fiyero had commissioned it for her the first time she took him along the path and told him about the Thropp sister's tradition. She had repeated to him the same stories she used to tell Nessarose about their mother, and ever since then, they had taken up the duty of visiting the two women.

Eventually they reached the field of flowers. Fiyero walked among them for Elphaba, picking up twice as many as she used to allow Nessa. They hardly spoke on most occasions, preferring to honour the moment and their loved ones as they walked the path to the graves. Only once they entered the rounded patch did Fiyero speak for his wife, who was too tearful say anything.

"Here." He said quietly, handing her half of the bunch of wildflowers he held. He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her towards the two engraved headstones.

_Here lies the young spirit and body of Nessarose Thropp, daughter of Melena and Frexspar and sister to Elphaba. Truly loved and dearly missed by all who knew her. May she forever rest in peace. _

Elphaba sighed heavily and stared at the words. She still struggled to comprehend the loss, especially when confronted with the grave. When she tried to speak, her voice caught and instead only a sob came out. Fiyero held her tightly. After a minute, she leant forward and replaced the old flowers, doing the same for her mother. She dried her tears with a handkerchief and put her mind from the unfairness of their deaths.

"I miss her so much." She whispered. It was too quiet for Fiyero to hear, but he knew what she was saying. They sat holding hands for a moment. Then, Elphaba smiled and turned to her husband. She lifted a hand to his cheek and let it rest on his neck. They were close enough to kiss. Fiyero touched their lips together once, before Elphaba spoke. "I'm pregnant." She said frankly.

Fiyero blinked and sat back. "What?"

She laughed, though it was more of a sob. "I'm pregnant." She repeated.

"Yes, I thought that's what you said." She punched him playfully, but held him close by his lapel. "Really?" He asked tentatively.

She nodded. "That phone call was my physician. I've been waiting for ages."

She giggled as he held her so tight that she was lifted from the ground onto his lap. "Oh Oz, Elphaba. I can't believe it." He beamed, gently touching her abdomen which did not show any changes yet. He kissed her enthusiastically and made her giggle gleefully. "Wait, does this have anything to do with your not having coffee?"

She nodded. "It makes me feel sick."

He clicked his fingers. "I _knew _you loved coffee!" He exclaimed.

"It was awful at first, but now just the thought of it turns my stomach."

He thought for a moment. "I'll throw out the rest when we get home."

"Thank you, darling." She said. "You're going to be a father." She said, excitedly. "I'm going to be a mother. Did you hear that Nessa? We're going to be parents."

Fiyero laughed. "She'll be an Aunt. And your mother a grandmother."

Elphaba gasped. "My father. I wonder what he'll say." She smirked, imagining his reaction, and fervently hoping it would be positive.

"He will be thrilled. Everyone will. My parents – they'll be so excited. They've been waiting for this since they day we got married." Elphaba cackled, thinking of the beautifully old-fashioned in-laws she had gained. "Elphaba," Fiyero said, suddenly sincere and sombre. "This is the best thing that has happened to me since the day I met you in that library."

As they walked home together, arm in arm, and Fiyero ranted happily about ridiculous rites of passage he was going to make sure their baby endured, Elphaba laughed properly for this first time since her sister had died.

Nine months later, when Elphaba was handed her baby daughter by an exhausted and over-whelmed Fiyero, she smiled through the subsiding pain and they _both_ revelled in the tiny noises their little girl was making.

Through sweat and tears, Fiyero welcomed her to their lives. "Hello little Nessarose." He said.

**END**

* * *

><p><em>Her sister was never truly gone, as far as Elphaba was concerned. <em>


End file.
